


Fate Leads the Willing

by MessyInsomniacBookGirl



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Rob Benedict - Fandom, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Artists, Character Study, Creativity, Disabled Character, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fate, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kismet, Making Out, RPF, Relationship(s), Romance, San Diego Comic-Con, Singing, artist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessyInsomniacBookGirl/pseuds/MessyInsomniacBookGirl
Summary: After suffering a stroke, artist -and self proclaimed geek and tech nut- Kismet Jones, is determined to scratch off some things that have been on her bucket list for years. She's been on the mend for a couple of months, and she's dead set on not giving up on having as normal a life as possible.Kismet is a woman who firmly believes that a person makes their own fate, especially now that she's been left partially disabled. Together with her daughter, Frida, she heads off to enjoy a hectic four days at San Diego Comic Con. Expecting nothing but a lovely time with her daughter.But Fate, it seems, has its own opinions about that, and doesn't really care about what its namesake expects, as it decides to make her life even more hectic and confusing, when it throws her into the path of a man named Rob Benedict.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken creative liberties with this story.  
> Rob is divorced and has no children. (a bit like his character in Kings of Con)
> 
> I own nothing.
> 
> I make no money with this.
> 
> I love my Sandbox and I play in it as often as possible.
> 
> Oh, yeah, MATURE content.
> 
> XO

**Chapter 1**

 

July 2017, San Diego Comic Con

 

‘Awww, would you just look at that. Such a fierce wee one.’ Ruth singsonged at her colleagues in her Scottish accent, as she looked at the little girl who was patiently waiting in line, for her turn for a photo-op with part of the Supernatural cast.

Rob turned around from where he had been saying goodbye to a fan, who had just taken a pic with Ruthie, Richard and himself. He spotted the small, dark haired girl in the crowd.

Ruth was right, she was a fierce little thing. At just over four feet tall, she was dressed in the most elaborate Star Wars’ Jakku Rey cosplay he had ever seen in all his years at SDCC. Her costume was absolutely gorgeous and tailored to fit; worked within an inch of the finest detail, and then some. Her black hair was elaborately done up into Rey’s three ponytail-buns. Even the fighting-stick she carried was top-notch.

And was that a half-size BB8 that followed when she stepped forward, after two women left the front of the line to take a picture with him and his colleagues? 

The girl had only just stepped into the photo-op room from outside, where the line of people continued for about thirty more yards, and she shuffled about a bit, looking back to the door with a slight frown on her face. Was she waiting for someone? He couldn't see clearly if she was escorted by anyone.

It was nearing the end of the second hour of their first afternoon at San Diego Comic Con.  Comic Con Thursdays were always a bit more quiet and laid back than the rest of the weekend, with people arriving and checking in at their hotels all day, and into the evening. Tomorrow the real mayhem would break loose. 

After this photo-op he had a few hours off for dinner and a soundcheck, and at eight he and his band, and the rest of the present Supernatural cast, would perform for the fans who'd bought tickets for the Supernatural Thursday Night Karaoke. After that, he’d probably hang out with the cast for a while, before retiring for the night. He was going to have to be as rested as possible if he was to get through this weekend, without crashing prematurely. SDCC was always pretty intense and after his stroke, four years ago, he tired much quicker than he used to. 

As the line inside the room moved forward, and the girl came closer to her photo-op, he caught her glancing at him a few times. She seemed a bit sad as she looked back at the door, and then looked at him again. An indecisive expression flitted ever her face before it set in one of determination when it was her turn for a picture. 

She handed one of the two tickets she was holding to the photographer’s assistant and made to walk towards Rob and his colleagues.

‘Wait, you can’t be here by your own. You have to have an adult with you.’ The assistant said, as she made a move to stop the girl. 

The girl startled and she looked up at the woman with big green eyes; her eyes filling with tears and her lower lip wobbling dangerously. The poor child was probably tired after such a long day on her feet, and the tone of the assistant’s voice wasn't exactly friendly.

‘Oh, Shanna, don’t be such a party-pooper.’ Ruth said admonishingly to the assistant. ‘I’m sure we could make an exception for this bonny wee girl. She’s been waiting so patiently for her turn.’ She held her hand out to the girl. ‘Come on, lovely, I’ll be your adult. What a lovely costume you have, and such a fantastic BB8. How do you get her to follow you around like that?’

A watery smile appeared on the girls face and she walked over to Ruth, taking her hand.

‘My mum made my clothes and she made BB8. She says BB8 follows the tech she put in the stick…’ She said with a, surprisingly, British sounding accent. ‘Look.’ She gave the stick to Richard who was standing close by and then pulled Ruth away from the robot. The bot rolled closer to Richard and stayed by his side.

‘Wooooow, that’s so cool. And you even have Rey’s Jakku accent! Could it be that you really are Rey, from Jakku?’ Ruth exclaimed, sounding very impressed.

The girl giggled. ‘No, silly, I’m British.’ She said in a dignified tone. 

Ruth’s mouth fell open. ‘Noooo…’ She said disbelievingly. ‘Really?’

She nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, I was born in London. But now my mum and I live in LA.’

Richard was still holding the fighting stick and looked down at the BB8 bot. 

’Wow, this is some impressive tech. Your mom must be so smart.’ He said as he took a few steps to his left and the bot followed.

The girl grinned at him and nodded proudly. 

‘She builds things for movies and she makes lots of costumes and paintings and drawings… and sculptures that move.’

Ruth bent over, hands on her thighs, so she was at eye level with the girl.

‘I think your mum is awesome, that she does al that, but I’m a bit worried about you being here all by yourself. Did you lose your mum in the crowd? Do you know where she is?’

The girl’s expression changed from happy to sad, like a switch had flipped. She nodded at Ruth and then she turned to Rob and stepped up to him, looking up at him, with eyes brightly shining from a heart shaped face. He crouched down to her level, again awed by how superbly detailed her costume was. She looked at him with a very serious expression on her face.

‘What is wrong, darling?’ He asked gently.

‘It’s my mum.’ she said, sniffling a bit. ‘She had the same thing that you had,’ she raised her hand and her fingertips lightly touched the side of his head, just above his left ear. ‘In her brain.’ 

Rob’s heart clenched with sadness at the girl’s explanation as she continued, ‘She got really tired from walking all day and she had to get into her chair, because her right leg doesn't work well when she’s tired, and then she falls a lot, so we went back to the car to get her wheelchair.  And then she wasn't allowed to stand in line with her chair, because the queueing corridor was too narrow to fit her chair, and the people from SDCC told her she couldn't come with me if she couldn't walk, and she couldn’t, not even with her crutches, she really tried, but she fell, and then they had to help her into her chair, and now she is waiting for me outside.’ 

Rob felt a sudden anger burn inside him at the thought of how humiliating it must have been for the girl’s mother to be forced to prove she could stand up when she obviously couldn't, because there was no other way to go with her daughter for a picture with the Supernatural cast, and then to fall over in front of so many people watching on. In front of her daughter.

‘We saved for three years to come to Comic Con, and she really wanted to take a picture with you guys, but now she can’t. This is her ticket.’ The girl took a deep breath after she rattled off her story, and held out the ticket she hadn't handed to the assistant.

Rob took the ticket from her and nodded his head at her in thanks. Going by the age of the girl, he estimated her being about eight or nine, her mother couldn't be much older than his own age. She was probably mid forties, at maximum. It always saddened him when he met young people whose care-free lives had been changed completely, because of a stroke. Especially if it were people who had young children who were still so dependent. This little girl was far too serious and mature for her age, having gone through more than she should have.

’I’m sure we can do something about your problem.’ He extended his hand and shook hers. ‘I’m Rob, what is your name?’

‘Frida Jones. I’m ten.’ The girl said proudly, hope tentatively dawning in her eyes. ‘Can you help me, Chuck?’ She asked softly.

A big, blinding smile broke on Rob’s face at hearing her mix-up of his name; Sometimes children couldn't discern between the actors’ characters and their real personas, just like now with Frida, who had accepted the name Rob without blinking, but at the same time identified him with the character he played. In her head he was one and the same. It was adorable. 

‘Frida, you have a lovely name. Of course I can help you. I’ll go get her right now. What does she look like?’

‘Like me, only taller. And she’s my mum, but today she’s also Death.’

His eyebrows rose at this strange answer that was not really helpful. ‘She’s… Death?’

Frida nodded. ‘Yes, her name is Death of the Endless, and she has a big hat on, and a black lace parasol, and she’s in a black chair. Her clothes are black too. She’s Morpheus’s sister. You know, from Sandman?’

‘Alright. I’ll see if I can find her. You will stay with Ruth, okay?’ Rob waited for the girl to agree before heading for the exit of the room, which was a wider than normal doorway, but was divided by waist-high screens. Screens which extended for at least twenty yards into the queue. 

It left the doorway a bottleneck, where only one person at a time could enter the room on one side, and only one person could exit on the other. No wonder the wheelchair couldn't fit, the queue part of the partition couldn’t even fit two people next to each other. 

He would be having a convo about this with the organisation. This event should be inclusive of all people, but disabled people were being let down severely, if this was the standard for the whole convention. It was absolutely unacceptable.

Smiling tightly at the shouts and squee’s from the fans, he gave them an awkward wave as he stepped out of the photo-op room. 

He searched the crowd for the woman Frida had described, and within seconds he spotted a futuristic-looking, shiny black wheelchair with black spokes and orange tires that stood next to one of the info-booths, out of the way of the crowd walking by, but still visible for anyone leaving the photo-op. The backrest was altered to look like a very realistic looking gravestone, which read ‘Kismet’.

There was only a wheelchair, though. No Frida’s Mum.

As he walked closer, he could see the top of a hat sticking out above one of of the wheels, and a black Doctor Marten’s boot, connected to a stretched out leg, on the floor behind the chair. Picking up his pace, he rounded the wheelchair, suddenly afraid that something had happened to Frida’s mother.

She was sitting on the ground, leaning against a wheel of the chair, her shapely right leg stretched out, left leg pulled up, left arm resting on her knee, left hand holding an iPod. The iPod’s earphone wires disappeared under her long and wavy black hair. With her right hand, she tapped to the beat of the music, on the thigh of her right leg.

Her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back slightly, which made the top-hat she was wearing slide forward over her forehead a bit, as the back of it was pushed up against the chair. 

The corners of her mouth were tilted up as she sang along with the music on her iPod. He recognised Hallelujah from Leonard Cohen. The tone of her voice was close to perfect. The pitch, the timing, the lovely vibrato. Although she was keeping the volume of her voice down and it didn't sound like she was a trained singer, it was clear to him that she could sing, and well. Such talent.

After she came into full view it felt like a punch to his gut. The woman was just as adorable as her daughter. She was also tiny. Even sitting down he could see she wasn't over five feet tall. And she looked _so_ young! How could she be the mother of a ten year old? Did she have the girl when she was twelve?!  
She did look like the grown-up version of the little girl he'd just left in the photo-op, though. Frida hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that her mother looked just like her. The only visual difference being that this woman had wavy curls and Frida’s hair was straight. And maybe her nose was a different shape; slightly more straight than her daughter’s upturned button nose. Her face did have the same wide, high cheekbones and small pointy chin, though. She looked like a pixie… Like… a goth pixie. 

She was immaculately made up as Death of the Endless. Her costume was completely on point, just like Frida’s Rey outfit was. Black boots, black skinny jeans with chunky studded belt around the hips, black spaghetti top; and an Ankh pendant fastened to a leather necklace was around her neck. Her hands were clad in fingerless, black leather gloves. Next to her right leg, a black lace parasol lay on the floor. Rob couldn't help himself as he let his eyes wander over her lithe body, in spite of feeling like a dirty old man while doing it. He had no business checking out women this young. Hm… Nicely rounded hips, tiny waist, lovely br… _Ugh. Bad Rob. Stop perving on the girl!_ He was appalled by his own behaviour.

His eyes traveled up to her face, and that’s when he noticed she had stopped singing and that she’d opened her eyes. His gaze shot to hers and he looked into a pair of hazel eyes, amusement sparkling in the warm depths. Her eyes were different from her daughter’s green ones, he noted distractedly. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, the left corner of her mouth pulling upward.

Shit, she'd totally caught him checking her out. His eyes widened a bit as he realised this. Anxiety clenching in his stomach.

‘I… Um… I’m sorry…’ He stammered, not really sure if he was saying that because he wanted to start a conversation with her, or if he was apologising for staring at her so extensively -and thus disturbing her singing.

She pulled the earphones from her ears, winding the wires around the iPod and putting them away in a black leather bag that was attached to her belt. She looked up at him and chuckled. 

‘You are forgiven… God.’ She said, with a slightly lopsided smile, in a mildly husky, British accent that shot a bolt of heat along his spine, straight to his lower abdomen, where it pooled and settled into a gentle warm glow. It made him suck in a fast breath in shock. _Oh shit. Not good._

‘Could you be so kind to give me hand? I tried to get to my crutches,’ She seemed to have missed his reaction to her smile and voice, as she waved at the crutches that were fastened to the back of the chair, ‘but I lost my balance and ended up here. I seem to have depleted the last of my energy reserves for today and can’t really get up by myself.’

‘Uh… What?… Oh, of course.’ He mumbled and crouched down, blushing a bit and contemplating on how to go about helping her up.

She put her arms around his shoulders as she gave him instructions on how to lift her. He straightened his back and put his elbows under her armpits, bending his arms, so she wouldn't slip down, and lifting her easily as he pushed up with his legs. He lifted her with ease. She couldn't weigh more that ninety pounds soaking wet. He lifted a lot more when he worked out.

Dear Chuck, she was short. Standing up, the top of her head only just reached his chin. He’d never felt so tall in his life. Usually he was the one looking up at people; now he was the one looking down at the woman who was pressed closely against him. His arms had slipped around her waist automatically, as she leaned on him for support, her small hands still holding on to his shoulders. 

She grinned up at him as she pushed the skewed top-hat back to its correct position on her head. 

‘Hi, God.’

‘Hello, Death.’ he shot back with a shy smile. ‘So, what’s with the whole wheeling around a gravestone? You burying Fate somewhere?’ He indicated the stone on the back of the chair with a nod of his head. This brought him even closer to her and he could smell her perfume, or body-wash, or something. Dear Chuck, she smelled good. Like vanilla and incense.

Death let out a snort, making a dismissive gesture at the stone. ‘Ah, pshh, that’s not a stone for Fate. That’s Kismet’s. Tiny woman; black hair, hazel eyes. Very stubborn little thing. Nine-and-a-half months ago, she somehow succeeded to circumnavigate her Ending and now I’m looking for her. She seems to have a knack for avoiding me. Have you seen her?’ She blinked innocently up at him, eyes wide.

Rob raised an eyebrow in amusement, marvelling at her oddly dark sense of humour. 

‘Can’t say that I have. But I’m looking for someone too.’

‘Oooh, do tell, I love a good story.’ She grinned, bouncing up and down slightly. Rob had to force himself not to look at the tops of her breasts that were now bouncing up and down with her movement.  _Bad Rob! Stop that!_ He pulled himself back to the subject at hand and answered her.

‘Well, there is a little girl in that room over there,’ he nodded at the doorway he’d just come from, where the faces of people waiting in line were turned their way, staring curiously; some fans even had their phones out, filming his spontaneous excursion. It would undoubtedly be all over the net tomorrow. Fuck.

He continued, ‘and she misses her mom. Asked if I could help her to get her mom into a photo-op. Her name is Frida, and she told me that her mom looked like her, and was also Death of the Endless today. Am I talking to the right Death?’

Death sobered a bit. She nodded and reached behind her to grab onto the wheelchair. He helped her lower herself into it.

‘That would be me. Is Frida alright? She was a bit anxious about going without me. They wouldn't let me go in with my chair. Something about a fire hazard.’ 

Which was a bloody fucking crime in his eyes. He could feel his anger, on the injustice of it all, spike again.

She extended her hand to shake his. When he took it, he could feel that her right leg wasn't the only limb that had lost strength after her stroke. Her right arm shook lightly from exertion and her grip was loose.

‘Kismet Jones.’ She introduced herself. 

‘Hello, Kismet, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Rob. Don’t worry, your girl is fine. She completely charmed Ruth; and Richard is very taken with your BB8. They’re all waiting on you and me. I propose we park your chair at the exit and then I will help you into the room, so we can take the photo.’ Rob raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to agree.

‘Okay, that sounds great. Thank you, Rob.’ She skilfully navigated her chair through the crowd and came to a stop at the door. Then she looked up at him. ’Okay, how do you propose we go about this?’

Rob handed her the lace parasol he had picked up after he’d helped her into the chair, just before they made their way over to the exit of the op room. He turned his back to her, crouching down.

‘Hop on up.’ He said.

Death laughed and clapped her hands in delight. ‘Oooh, piggyback ride!’ 

He had to give it to her, she snapped back into character like a pro. Flawlessly. 

She put her left hand on his shoulder, pushing off with her left leg to get the right around his waist and hopped onto his back. He put his lower arms under her knees and hoisted her up a bit. When she was properly settled, he stood up and carried her piggyback style to the doorway.

Unexpectedly, the slightly eccentric woman on his back thrust out her right hand, brandishing the closed parasol like a sword and shouted -to the hilarity of the crowd-, ‘Forward my trusted steed, to infinity and beyond!’ 

Shouts and whoops came from the crowd.

‘That’s it, girl! Ride that man for all of us!’ a woman jokingly yelled from the back of the line. Cheers of approval broke out all around.

This hilarious combination of the cheekiness from both women, made him burst into laughter, and he almost dropped her as his arms loosened around her legs. With a squeak she tightened her hold on his shoulders; her left arm sliding over his chest, clamping her left hand over his right pec, her fingers ghosting over his nipple, and her legs wrapping all the way around his hips. He felt her soft breasts push up against his shoulder blades, and she almost hit him in the face with the parasol in her scramble to keep her balance on his back. The back of one of her boots pushed accidentally into his groin as she tried to pull herself up. It was a very fast and light touch but it was enough to fan the embers that had been smouldering ever since he saw her first.

A shiver went through him, and he suppressed a groan, as his brain provided him with images of how fantastic it would be if she was wrapped around him in another way. 

_Jesus. Rob, you old perv! Stop that! She’s not for you!_ He admonished himself, desperately trying to ignore his treacherous brain.

‘Please, don’t drop me.’ Kismet squeaked in his ear, a bit breathless from her effort to remain in balance.

Rob turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes finding hers immediately. She was so very close. He could feel her breath ghosting over his cheek.

‘Never.’ He said earnestly, with a tone of voice he almost didn't recognise. Since when did his voice reach a pitch that raw and low? 

He felt her tremble against him for a moment and her legs tightened slightly around him. Could it be that she felt it too? This unexpected… attraction? 

He kicked himself mentally. Nah, that was ridiculous. He was reading into things. Wanting something to be there when it wasn’t. She was just afraid he’d drop her. 

Women as cute and lovely, and beautiful, and talented, and _young,_ as she was, just didn't go for him. It didn't happen. Ever. They went for Jared, and for Jensen, and for Misha, and Matt, or for Rich when he turned the charm up to eleven. It was never, ever, awkward, foot in mouth, short, quiet Rob.

Suppressing another shiver, he carried Kismet through the door and towards his colleagues, who were still highly entertained by the little girl and her robot.

He wasn't usually like this. Being so easily aroused and intrigued by a superficial encounter with a woman at a con, never happened to him. His psyche, his body, they didn't work like that. The fact that it had happened now, threw him into a mental tailspin.

Hell, he hadn't been with anyone since his divorce had been finalised, almost eighteen months ago, when Rich had taken him out for drinks, and had gotten him blackout drunk. He’d woken up with a massive hangover, and a woman in his bed whose name he didn't know. Yeah, no, that wasn't something he'd like to repeat any time soon. Talk about awkward. He actively disliked blackout drunk one night stands, and the uncomfortable mornings after. And hangovers. He definitely didn't need any of those either.

Normally he was socially awkward as fuck, especially around women, and needed to be at least a bit comfortable with a potential partner before taking things further; which usually meant, knowing them longer than just a few minutes or hours. 

He was a dork, who was passionate about making music with his band, and who loved to act in movies and on tv-shows, and really enjoyed to sing and joke and hang out on stage with his cast friends, during conventions. 

Of course he’d received his fair share of propositions from fans, when he was attending events, but he’d made a habit of turning those down. Having strangers throwing themselves at him sexually, because of who he played in a tv-show, or because of who they perceived him to be, made him so very uncomfortable. If only people could stop doing that. And then there was of course the number one rule he and most of his co-workers had set for themselves. No complications -aka sex- with fans at cons. Complications were bad. As in stalker bad. Restraining order bad. Lawsuit bad. 

He didn't understand his intensely visceral reaction to the woman whom he was currently carrying on his back. It wasn't something that he had experienced before. Not even with the woman he married… And then divorced.

One moment he was fine, minding his own business, trying to find the mom of a little girl, the next he'd heard a lovely singing voice; then he'd proceeded to extensively check out her body, like a perv, and then she'd completely blown him away with her quick wit and slightly dark humour, and her sexy British accent.

Within minutes of meeting her, he was a goner. Fuck. Major complications. What was worse, was that this time it wasn't an overzealous fan trying to think of reasons to talk to him longer than appropriate. Nope, this time it was _him_ , contemplating actively pursuing someone who happened to be a fan, and his brain was enthusiastically supplying him with scenarios which all led to him seeing her again. 

Jesus, how sad was that?

The moment that Rich spotted him, he held up the stick that controlled the BB8 bot.

‘This is soooo cool, Robbo! I want one!’ 

Then he spotted Kismet on Rob’s back; his eyes widened a bit in surprise, before a slow smile lit up his face.

Aaaand there came the charm. Up to fucking five-hundred. Rob almost growled in annoyance and frowned at his friend.

‘Well, well, welllll, who do we have here, Rob? Who is this lovely creature?’ He smiled his megawatt grin as he swaggered up to them, making Rob want to take a step back, to keep him from charming Kismet within an inch of her life.

Rich bowed over a bit, took her left hand and kissed it, while gazing up at her through his lashes, his lips upturned in a flirting smirk, giving her his ‘I-wanna-fuck-you’ look. 

_Jesus Christ. Asshole_.

‘Don’t keep this delightful thing all to yourself, brother. Sharing is caring.’ Rich quipped at him, with a wink, before realising that he may have gone a bit overboard with his sassiness. Rob could see it the instant Rich had the _‘oh shit, was that too far?’_ moment.

Kismet stared blankly back at his friend for a nanosecond, and then she snorted. She actually snorted at Rich’s overly flirty behaviour. No giggle, or sigh, or silent blush, or even an offended reaction to his last remark. A snort. And then she barked out a laugh.

‘You really are too much, Gabriel. That sassy flirt act won’t work on me, you Trickster.’ She snickered loudly, with a big grin breaking on her face.

Rich tilted his head, and raised his eyebrows in amused surprise, giving her crooked smile. Rob could tell that his friend was thoroughly impressed. Usually, female fans went all ‘aw shucks’, when Richard turned on the charm, and they ate it up like they were starving. Smooth bastard that he was.

The fact that Kismet had called bullshit on his behaviour, within seconds of meeting him, without being disrespectful or rude, and gracefully giving him an out, without the risk of him losing face, by connecting his actions to the character of Gabriel instead of to Rich himself, didn't escape either of the men’s attentions.

Rob felt a strange tenderness, and pride, for the woman, bloom in his chest, because of how she had spared his best friend an embarrassing situation. She could have publicly taken him down a notch if she'd wanted, but she had shown a natural kindness and consideration that was so genuine that it awed him. And left him more aroused than was appropriate in this given situation. 

Shit, he was in so much trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich' POV.

**Chapter 2**

 

Rich looked the tiny woman in the eyes, and acknowledged his defeat with a grin and a nod. She smiled back sweetly.

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ He said, chuckling as his eyes darted to Rob’s, wanting to say more, but falling silent as he took in the man’s countenance. 

Rob’s pupils were blown wide, the bright blue irises almost invisible. Rich frowned as he took in Rob’s taut facial and neck muscles, his wide nostrils as he breathed in, and his tense stance. His friend looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Something that wasn't unusual with how anxious the man could get. Only this wasn't a situation that called for him to be this agitated. Something different was happening. Rich couldn't really put his finger on it, until Rob’s eyes flicked away from his and he swallowed laboriously. 

Oh… It was _that_ kind of agitation… and Richard was stepping too close to the other man’s… interest.

_Well, isn't that interesting_ ; he thought, as he released the woman’s hand and straightened up. 

‘Hi, I’m Rich, what’s your name?’ He asked the woman, as the possibilities his discovery brought, darted through his brain. Rob wasn't someone to be so quickly enamoured by a woman. For as far as he knew, the man hadn't been with anyone since that cluster-fuck of a post-divorce drinking binge, early last year. 

Remembering the day after, made him wince. Man, he hadn't been that hungover since his college days. He’d woken up next to his wife, the morning after, when his phone had started ringing too close to his ear and he’d almost thrown it across the bedroom before he saw the caller-ID.

Turned out that Rob’s morning had been even more sucky than his. The man had been close to a mental breakdown, breathing erratically and babbling on about blacking out and waking up naked, with a strange woman in his bed. 

It had taken a big effort to talk Rob out of a full blown anxiety attack, and Rich had sworn to himself not to push willing women his friend’s way, ever again. He’d thought he was doing the man a favour that night, getting him to loosen up around the fairer sex, by throwing him headfirst into the deep end of the dating pool, but it had backfired epically. 

He should have known that such tactics wouldn't work, with Rob being the way he was, but he might have been a little too inebriated himself, to make well-advised decisions concerning his best friend’s love life. He’d just hated seeing him so sad after the divorce court proceedings had wrapped up. 

Of course Rob could have been with someone Rich didn't know about, since then, but Richard doubted that Rob could’ve stayed silent about something like that. They were more like brothers than friends, these days, and told each other anything and everything that came up.

The woman on Rob's back tapped her hat with the parasol she was holding, in greeting.

‘Hi, Rich, I’m Kismet.’

Rich couldn't suppress a snicker. Her name was an epithet for Fate. What a fucking awesome development that was.

‘Really? As in your real name?’

‘Yup, Kismet Jones. Blame my hippy parents for that moniker. Nice to meet you, Rich. I really like the way you portray Gabriel.’ Her voice was light and happy, with a slightly husky note, as she spoke.

Rob actually grunted at her complimenting Rich on his job well done. Both Rich and Kismet looked at him. Well, kismet looked at his ear, because she was on his back, and Rob was staring straight forward. Rich narrowed his eyes at Rob in surprise, it wasn't like him to be so sulky, but his friend still avoided looking him in the eye. 

_Shiiiiiiiiiit!_ The man had it bad! Rich had to fight against the shit-eating grin that threatened to break through on his face.

‘Oh, hush, you grumpy man. I also like Chuck. He’s cute.’ Kismet reprimanded him, ruffling his curls with her fingers. She threw a wink Rich’s way.

Rich saw Rob relax a fraction, and he had to admit that he liked the woman already. 

_Takes shit from no-one, chooses kindness over retaliation, and has a calming influence on Rob’s anxiety… And a more, hm, titillating influence on other… things. Yeah, I can work with that._ he thought to himself.

The adorable little girl, who was her daughter -her name was Frida, right?-, came closer and smiled up at her mom.

‘Hi, mummy! Chuck is awesome! He went to get you when I asked him to. And he gave you a piggyback ride.’ The girl was visibly pleased with the fulfilment of her request. Kismet sent a soft smile her daughter’s way and opened her mouth to answer her.

‘Okay, people, time to snap that photo. You’re holding up the line here.’ The photographer interrupted, sounding a bit cranky. 

Quickly, the adults and child took their places in front of the camera.

Rob posed with Kismet on his back, smiling at the camera, leaning slightly forward and holding her up, as she straightened her legs forward, pointing her toes. She had opened the parasol and held it out and slightly backwards in her left hand as she stretched her right arm out as far as she could, spreading the fingers of her right hand wide and then grinned at the camera.

Ruth was wearing a mock scared expressing and leaning back from Frida, who had pointed her fighting stick into the woman’s direction, as if she was fighting the witch, and looking mighty fierce while doing it. 

Rich decided to keep his left hand on his hip as he raised and eyebrow at the camera, grimacing a bit as he gestured at the four people as if he couldn't believe what was going on.

*Flash*, went the camera and then they were done.

“okay, next.’ The photographer called out.

Rich countered the man’s words by addressing the crowd.

‘Just a moment, darlings. We have to help this lovely girl back to her chair. Is that okay?’

The crowd cheered their assent, and Richard bowed at them, pushing his hands together in gratitude.

‘Thank you, you amazing people!’ He exclaimed as he blew kisses at them, which led to more cheers, and took Frida’s hand as he followed Rob and Kismet when they started to make their way out of the room.

‘Come on, honey. Lets get your mom back on her butt.’

Frida giggled and looked up at him with wide eyes. 

‘What?’ He asked, confused by her laugh.

‘You said butt.’ She whispered.

‘I did?’ 

She nodded with a solemn expression.

‘Oh, well, I’m an Angel of the Lord. It’s okay if I say butt.’ He winked at her and she giggled again.

Rich watched as the BB8 bot started following behind them.

‘Aw, that is just so cool.’ He mumbled to himself, sighing in awe. A woman smart enough to build tech stuff straight out of a geek’s wet dreams, was someone to keep around. Hell, he’d want to keep her around for her wit alone. 

Slowly, a plan was forming in his mind on how to make sure they would see her again this convention. 

‘So, are you girls coming to the ' _Supernatural Karaoke and Thursday Night Special_ ' tonight?’ He asked Frida.

The girl shook her head.

‘No, I have to go to bed when that starts, and my mum didn't have enough money to go. We’ve got one thing per day. Today was the photo, and tomorrow we have Marvel autographs. Saturday is the Supernatural panel, and Sunday we’re going home again, so then we don't have anything. Aunt Fliss is going to the Hall H Marvel panel on Saturday. She loves Loki.’

‘Aunt Fliss?’ 

‘Yeah, she is here too. She drove the car. She went to get gamer stuff when we came here. She helps my mum when she can’t do things, and when she’s tired. They’re best friends. Oh, look, there she is!’ 

The girl waved at a tall woman with short blond hair, who was carrying several bags of merchandise. She hastily made her way over to Kismet and Rob, just as Rob helped Kismet back into her chair. On her face was a look of concern.

_Wow, helloooo, Amazonian Woman_. Aunt Fliss had an athletic build, and even on flat boots she towered over them, topping at almost six feet. She reminded him a bit of Gwendoline Christie -maybe slightly less broad in the shoulders, though-. She was -very fittingly- dressed as a blond, short haired version of Xena, warrior princess. 

She looked familiar somehow. Had he met her before? Nah, he’d have remembered that. Wait, wasn't she in American Horror Story, a couple years back? Yeah, that was it. Something with a carnival.

Rich amusedly watched on, as Rob and aunt Fliss both tried to settle Kismet into her chair, and the woman in question pulled a face at their antics, and rolled her eyes at him over their shoulders.

‘So, you coming to our Karaoke and Thursday Night Special, tonight, Kismet?’ He asked. He saw Rob freeze and whip his head around to stare at him in shock. Rich winked at him. _I got your back, brother._

Kismet frowned in confused surprise at his question.

‘Um… what? Uh… No, sorry. I couldn't get a ticket.’ She’d gotten a bit flustered when she answered the question he already knew the answer to, thanks to a chatty little girl. The sweet woman couldn't even lie straight; trying to hide that she hadn't been able to afford the ticket.

‘What? You didn't get the ticket?’ The Amazon woman questioned, apparently flabbergasted. ‘I thought I told you to go. I’ll watch Frida, you know that’s not a problem, right?’

‘Well, I thought I’d be too tired anyway. And it’s sold out by now.’ Kismet mumbled, acting a bit twitchy.

‘So, you sleep in advance. What good is it to finally go to SDCC and then not attend any events? I mean, attending this con has been on your bucket-list for _years_.’ the Amazon threw up her hands in exasperation, and Richard saw Kismet shrink a bit in her chair in what he recognised as shame. Poor girl was too proud and independent to admit that she was short on funds.

Rob had been looking back and forth between the two friends, while they were bickering, and now looked back at Richard. He clearly was at a loss at what to do.

Rich nodded with his head from Rob to Kismet, his eyes shooting between her and Rob. _Go on, brother, ask the girl._

Rob raised his eyebrows at him in confusion and mouthed an exasperated _‘what?’_ in his direction.

Jesus, did he have to do everything himself around here?! Rich rolled his eyes at Rob.

‘Do you still want to go? Because I could pull some strings and help you get in.’ He said to Kismet. 

Both women turned to look at him. The tiny one looking a bit hesitant, and the tall one looking more enthusiastic by the second.

Rob looked like he’d finally caught up with Rich’s plan. A flash of understanding flitted over his face and then he looked appropriately sheepish for not catching on earlier. _Dense fucker._

‘That’s a great idea!’ Aunt Fliss exclaimed. ‘If we go back to the hotel right now, you can sleep for a few hours, and have some dinner, and after that you can go to Karaoke, and I’ll watch Frida. What time are you expecting her?’ She asked Rich.

‘We’re at Ballroom 20A; that’s on the upper level. Just take the elevator outside Hall E, the one that is to the right of Starbucks. It’ll take you straight up. Go left, when you get out of the elevator, and you won’t have any trouble finding the room. The show starts between eight and eight-fifteen, doors open at seven forty-five. If you're there at seven, then we’ll be able to let you in, because we’ll still be sound-checking. There might be a chance that we won’t hear you knock, but usually there’s a couple of guards at the doors. If they won’t let you through, just say ‘Cas is a party-pooper’ and it’ll be okay.’

Kismet snorted a laugh.

‘Cas is a party-pooper? Really?’

‘Hey, let a man have some fun. I just made it up, but I’ll tell security to let through a woman in a wheelchair, who knows the password. Easy enough.’ 

She snickered at his humour and looked up at Rob as she answered Rich. It was something that did not go by unnoticed by Rich. Was this a mutual attraction thing? That would be so awesome! Richard smirked as he started hatching more plans for the weekend.

‘Alright. If it’s really okay to show up without a ticket, I guess you’ll see me at seven.’ She said, still noticeably hesitant about not paying for the event.

Rob stepped in to reassure her. _There you go, brother. Take the wheel._ Rich thought approvingly.

‘It’s fine. It’s as you said, the event is sold out. But we’re allowed to bring in a few guests of our own, without having to buy tickets.’ 

The men said goodbye to the two women and the little girl, and turned back to the photo-op room, after Rich had nudged Rob with his elbow to get him to stop staring after Kismet.

Rich clapped a hand on Rob’s shoulder.

‘You got it sooooo bad, man.’ He snickered softly.

Rob rubbed the back of his neck with a trembling hand. It trembled even worse than usual, Rich noticed. A deep sigh was expelled from his friend’s lungs.

‘Ten seconds, man. That’s all it fucking took. Ten. Fucking. Seconds… And she can sing too.’ Rob groaned quietly as he face palmed. ‘I’m in so much trouble.’

Rich laughed out loud as he filed away this new morsel of information, and looked forward to the weekend even more than he already had when they had arrived this morning.

‘She’s young though. Did you get her age? is she even _legal_?’ He just had to torment Rob a bit; he couldn’t help himself.

‘Rich, you’re a dick. Her daughter is ten. I think I’m in the clear. Asshole.’ Rob grumbled.

Rich giggled evilly and put his arm around Rob as they made their way back to Ruth.

Yes, this weekend was going to be fun indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kismet goes to a party.
> 
> And fixes some stuff. MacGyver style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely botched fixing of a sound machine. Don't try this at home! ;)
> 
> Sandbox's-r-Us. I do what I want.

**Chapter 3**

 

Kismet wheeled her chair into the elevator that was located in front of Hall E, at the San Diego Convention Centre. With slightly trembling fingers, she pushed the button for the upper level. Shite, why was she so nervous for a night of lighthearted fun? 

_Maybe because you’ll be seeing a certain sexy, bearded man again? You know, the one with the beautiful blue eyes?_ Her brain helpfully supplied. 

‘Oh, shut up.’ She mumbled under her breath. _Stupid brain_. There was no way someone as awesome as him, was interested in a train wreck like her. Nope. Wasn't gonna happen; no matter how thrown she’d been by her unexpected attraction to him that afternoon.  She was going to have to get over that, and soon, because there was no way he would be interested in a girl who was a cripple in a wheelchair, for at least the last forty percent of the day. 

_But you’re getting better! Every day you see improvements! Your speech is back to normal. You can freaking walk again… Sixty percent of the time._ Her brain interjected hopefully. She knew she had a lot to be thankful for, in relation to her swift revalidation. Seven months ago, she couldn't even feed herself. And look at her now! Walking -most of the time-, talking fluently, and being able to work again -part-time, yes, but she wasn't complaining-.

Fuck! Who was she kidding with her childish hopes and fantasies? She’d just misinterpreted the heated look he had given her when she'd been sitting on the ground, leaning against the wheel of her chair. The moment they’d been in the photo-op room, his demeanour had changed, and he’d been much more reserved than before. He wasn't even the one who’d invited her for tonight. 

As the lift doors closed, she checked her reflection in the mirror that sat to one side of the elevator. She’d showered -and washed off the thick layer of white theatrical makeup that belonged to the cosplay of Death- the moment she'd been back in the hotel room. It was now replaced by some minimal foundation and highlighter, which let her freckles show through, and a shimmery lilac and dark purple eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and black mascara, that brought out the green in her hazel eyes. 

The faux mohawk that Felicia -or auntie Fliss, as Frida called her- had crafted from her hair, by tightly braiding back the hair on both sides of her head and teasing the top and long back bit within an inch of its life, and then layering it into tight spiralling curls, was still firm in place. Thanks to lots of hairspray. The hairstyle left her ears free and showed off multiple ear piercings, and punky, silver studded, ear-hoops.

Her hair was so full and thick, that it had taken more time than expected, to get the result that Felicia had desired, and it was almost ten minutes past seven by the time Kismet had made it back to the convention centre, and had manoeuvred her chair into the lift.

Nervously - _stop that, Kismet!_ \- she smoothed the black ‘Rock God/Call me Chuck’ t-shirt -Felicia had insisted on that article of clothing- over her abdomen and rubbed her sweaty palms on her black, distressed skinny jeans; the multiple bracelets she was wearing jingling merrily with the movement.

She had customised the v-neck t-shirt by widening the neckline, so it fell off one shoulder, and by distressing a few patches on the front and opening up a part of the back, by cutting small strips in the cloth and braiding and weaving the threads that appeared. The shirt had ended up being a bit too revealing, especially at the back, so she was wearing a tight spaghetti tank top under it, in the same colour red as the wings that were printed on the front.

‘Rock chick hawt!’ Felicia had called the completed outfit and Kismet had laughed at her exaggerated wolf howl, shaking her head at her friend’s antics.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened much too soon, to Kismet’s liking. She grabbed the wheels of her chair, and rolled it out of the lift. _Okay. Here we go. To the left._

She could already hear the goings on of a soundcheck. Guitars were being strummed, and someone was drumming in different rhythms. Someone else was speaking into a microphone, testing the volume of the sound, in relation to the musical instruments.

With a few pushes of her wheels, Kismet rolled around a corner, and there she spotted the doors to Ballroom 20A. As Richard had said, there were a couple of big, burly security guards hanging out in the hallway. They stood up straighter when they spotted her. Two of them looked quite put out that she was there, and glared at her in an unfriendly way, but the third seemed to somehow recognise her and stepped forward.

‘Password, please.’ He said with a sparkle in his eye.

Kismet sighed and looked up at the mountain of a man.

‘Aw… Do I have to?’

‘Sorry, ma’am, I have strict orders.’ He said, and then actually snickered.

‘Ugh… Alright… Cas is a party-pooper.’

‘Damn right he is.’ He laughed and he turned to the other men. ‘This here, is miss Kismet Jones, she’s a VIP tonight. A guest of Rob and Rich. If she needs anything or has any trouble with her chair or with her health or anything else, you are to assist her to your best ability, understood?’

Both men nodded as they cast curious glances her way.

‘Yes, sir.’

The Mountainous Boss Man gestured to the doors.

‘Go right ahead, ms Jones. You are expected.’

He held open one of the doors for her so she could easily roll through. She smiled up at him.

‘Thank you, sir.’ She said, as she went through, and he nodded at her as he closed the door firmly behind her.

The lights in the room were slightly dimmed, and she went unnoticed by the people who were milling around on and off the stage. She recognised at least five actors from Supernatural, and all of the band-members of Louden Swain; the band Rob played and sang in.

The band set in the first chords of ‘Mama’s Jam’ and she saw Rob adjust some settings on the control panel of the sound system, that was positioned at the side of the stage, before running back to the mic and starting the lyrics. 

She did a double take when she saw him. Wait, did he trim his beard? 

Where there had been a full, and slightly bushy beard, that afternoon, there was now what looked more like a couple days worth of stubble. It looked very good on him, she thought as she wetted her lips subconsciously.

Kismet watched on as the kind and slightly awkward Rob Benedict she’d met that afternoon, turned into Louden Swain’s frontman, and Rock God extraordinaire, from the moment he started to sing with his slightly hoarse voice. It was a fast-paced song that made his voice sound raw and growly. 

It was that vocal quality that had pulled her to Louden Swain’s music initially; years before she’d found out that their lead singer was also Chuck, the dorky prophet from Supernatural, who turned out to be God. She had already had most of the music by Louden Swain on her iPod, before she’d started watching Supernatural with her daughter, and recognised their lead singer in the man who portrayed Chuck, when they had been binge-watching season 4.

Rob was only a few sentences into the song when he pulled a face, and shook his head. It sounded like the microphone volume was wonky. While the sound had started off fine, he was now hardly heard over the loud music. He fiddled with the settings on the mic a bit while singing, which resulted in a whining screech cutting straight through the song. Everyone in the room cringed at the sound and the band fell quiet.

‘Fuck.’ a frustrated Rob exclaimed as he made way his back to the sound system and started pushing buttons and adjusting a few sliders.  ‘Okay, guys, lets try this again.’ The band started up, and the first minute or so everything went like clockwork.

While they were playing, Kismet rolled her chair down to the stage, keeping to the left side of the room. She still went unnoticed because everyone had turned to the stage to watch the band and their singer slay. 

She parked her chair in the corner, closest to where the sound system was located on the stage, and stood up. She was still a bit wobbly, but almost four hours of sleep had restored enough strength to her limbs, and balance to her body, for her to be able to walk again. 

Slowly, but surely, the mic sound started to fade again, crackles indicating the loss of contact with the sound system. Time to see if there was something to be done about the atrocious sound quality.

Tilting her head she contemplated how to get up on the side of the stage, without falling off. She turned her back to the stage and placed her hands on the ledge, while simultaneously pushing off with her legs, to hop up and park her bum on the stage-floor. Victory! She swung her legs up and half slid, half crawled, under the sound system control panel, and laid on her back to check for loose contacts or damaged cables. 

Suddenly, a body slid under the control panel, next to her. A shock went through her in fright, and she sucked in a breath.

‘Hey there.’ Rich greeted her. ‘You nefariously trying to sabotage us?’

‘Sheesh, Rich. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you.’ She gasped as she pressed a hand to her heart.

‘Sorry, hon. So, watcha doin’?’ He had turned his head toward her and curiously observed her.

‘I’m fixing your shite quality sound system. Where the hell did you get this? It’s seen better days, and even in those days it was subpar. It looks like it’s from the eighties, or something. I’d think with all the money you guys make at these con’s, you’d at least be able to afford a decent sound system and amps.’ 

‘Ouch. Harsh. You witch!’ Rich sucked in a breath when she lightly elbowed him in the upper arm in retaliation. He continued, ‘The airline fucked up and sent the band’s not shite quality sound system to Albany, so, we had to make do with the one we found in the Convention Centre’s basement.’

Kismet glared at him in disbelief.

‘Hey, girl, I shit you not.’

She huffed and shook her head.

‘I can not believe this piece of crap is still operational.’

On the stage the music faded away again, and from their place under the circuit board, they could hear Rob swearing.

‘Oh dear, I think Rob’s going into panic mode. Time to do an intervention.’ Rich made to get up, but Kismet’s hand shot out and stopped him.

‘Wait, do you have more gum?’

‘What?’

‘You’re chewing some gum, aren't you? Do you have more?’ Rich looked at her as if she’d gone mad. She sighed. ‘Look, the cables and connections are really wonky under here and I need some sort of adhesive that also has isolating capabilities. The gum will do for now. So, do you have more?’

Rich fished a package out of his pocket and handed it to her. She shook her head and pushed it back to him. 

‘Start chewing, Rich.’

‘You gotta be kidding me.’

‘I’m on my back under this thing. It’s dangerous to be chewing gum like this. I could suffocate. So, you sit up and start chewing… Oh, and keep them playing. I need to hear Rob sing, so I can hear when the mic has the right pitch, and adjust the settings accordingly.’

Rich sighed tormentedly. Kismet had to suppress a snicker at his petulant attitude. She sent him a stern look and he deflated.

‘Okay, fine.’ He popped a couple of pieces of gum in his mouth and started chewing. Then he stood up and called out to the band.

‘Guys, Rob, I found a sound technician… Or something… Whatever. We need you to keep playing and singing, so the sound system can be adjusted as we go.’ 

She heard Rob’s sceptical tone.

‘What? How did you find a sound technician? You haven’t been out of the room in the past hour!’

‘oh, yea of so little faith. Just do your thing and let us do ours, okay? Play!’ 

It took a few seconds, and Kismet could hear a couple of people shuffling around, before they started the song again. She held her hand out from under the panel and Rich deposited a big chunk of chewed gum into her palm. Ugh, she had to go wash her hands when she was done here. She stuck the large piece of sticky rubber to the panel and pulled off smaller pieces when she needed them. She reattached a few cables that had come loose and repaired a few more that had frayed, and were threatening to fall apart. One of the slides was faulty and it kept sliding down. That, and a half-attached sound-cable, was probably the cause of the mic failure. To test it, she pulled the cable out of the jack completely. Immediately the mic’s sound was gone.

‘What the _FUCK_?!’ She heard Rob call out in panic. Oops.

‘Sorry!’ She yelled back, and put the cable back where it belonged. ‘My bad!’

Rich gestured for the band to continue.

Now that that was fixed, how about a bit of an upgrade? Kismet fiddled with cables, and connections, and gum, and… Yes! That was it! The sound was boosted, to closely resemble the sound on Louden Swain’s albums, instead of the fricken’ crap sound that the system had put out before.

Rich’s head reappeared under the panel, eyes wide.

‘How. The. Fuck. did you do that?!’ His tone rose to an incredibly high pitch towards the end. It was impressive for someone with such a low voice as Rich.

Kismet grinned up at him and wiggled her fingers.

‘Magic fingers!’ She snickered. ‘Now, will you help me up, or do I have to stay under here all night?’

Rich pulled back from under the panel and allowed her enough space to wiggle out. He sat in a crouch and took her hands as he helped her to sit up. She noticed that he was very gentle with her,keeping a sharp eye out, to see if she was having any trouble with her balance. _Aw, that's sweet_.

‘Can you stand, or do you need help back to your chair?’ He asked.

Kismet pulled her knees up and nodded.

‘It’s okay, I can stand, if you can just help me get vertical.’

Rich snickered.

‘That’s not the reaction I usually get from women.’

‘I bet you don’t. Let’s just say I’m an unusual woman, then.’ She joked.

He looked down at her as he pulled her up to a standing position.

‘Yes, you definitely are.’ He said seriously, and then smiled teasingly. ‘Lookin’ good, darling. All rock and roll, but, damn, you’re tiny.’

‘Sod off, Rich.’ She retorted with a huff. 

Rich let out a chuckle and grinned at her as he clapped his hands together in delight.  
‘I think you and I are going to be great friends.’ He put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kismet meets Jensen and Jared, learns about Kings of Con, and talks to Rob. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but my OC's, and this story.
> 
> I make no money with this story.
> 
> I build castles in my Sandbox. That's all.

**Chapter 4**

 

‘Dude, who’s this? You know it’s a closed event tonight, right? No groupies allowed.’ They heard an irritated voice ask from behind them. 

_What the hell?! What arsehole…?!?_ Kismet stiffened in shock at the disrespectful words. Rich and she turned as one and she looked up… and up… and up… at Jared Padalecki.

‘Whoah, big.’ She breathed, eyes wide in wonder; her anger at his callousness temporarily forgotten. The top of her head didn't even reach any further than his pecs.

‘Yeah, Rich, Where’d you find the itty bitty babe? She’s cute.’ That was Jensen, popping up from behind Jared, looking her up and down. 

Kismet bristled at the tone of both men.

‘Excuse you. The itty bitty _babe_ is perfectly able to answer your questions herself. And I’m not a fuckin’ groupie!’ She bit out.

‘Oooh, English, pint-sized _and_ feisty. I like. Hey there, sexy!’ Jensen grinned lecherously at her.

Kismet almost growled at his disgusting behaviour and apparently Rich felt the need to intervene.

‘Guys, come on, no bullying the new kid, okay.’ He let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

_Wait, what?_ They were pranking her? Kismet looked at Rich, unsure of what was going on. Rich shook his head at her and winked, squeezing her a bit tighter to him in assurance. Ah.

Jensen apparently realised he might have gone a tad too far in his behaviour as he blushed a bit, and sobered. He chuckled and rubbed his neck.

‘Sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes we get carried away and we forget that not everyone knows we’re joking.’ He offered her his hand for her to shake. ‘I’m Jensen Ackles, resident prankster. And this ass is Jared Padalecki.’

Jared grinned, and he offered an apologetic wave and a ‘Hi’ as she shook Jensen’s hand. She nodded at them hesitantly.

‘Kismet Jones, tech wizard.’ She introduced herself, still quite reserved and unsure about the sudden turn around in their behaviour.

Rich beamed at the other two men like he was a proud dad.

‘Kismet here just saved our night. She fixed the sound machine with gum and improved the sound by, like, a thousand. She’s like our own pocket-sized MacGyver!’

Both Jensen and Jared looked at her in wonder. She stared back, unsure what to think of these guys. After working with actors in multiple film productions, she knew that some of them were genuinely nice and others were unbelievable arseholes in real life, even though they appeared to be so likeable in interviews and on tv-shows.

‘The sound boost, just now, that was you? Like, you fixed this crap thing within five minutes?… With… gum? Like… Chewing gum?!’ Jared asked, sounding disbelieving. Jensen looked down at the sound panel with a surprised look on his face.

Kismet nodded and felt a blush colour her cheeks. She wasn't used to be at the centre of attention like this.

‘Wow.’ Jared exchanged a look with his friend. ‘Dude.’ He said to Jensen, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. 

_Weird silent communication thing going on there… Should I be worried?_ Kismet frowned at their strange facial expressions.

Jensen pursed his lips and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at Jared and then looking back at her with an appraising look. Looking back to Jared, he also raised his eyebrows and smiled. Leaving Kismet wondering what that was all about. 

‘You wanna be our SPN Convention tech fairy?’ Jensen asked suddenly; completely out of the blue. ‘We need people like you in our merry band of misfits. If you can do that,’ He nodded at the speakers which were now producing quality sound, ‘with just gum, you’ll be a freaking prodigy when you got good equipment to work with.’

‘Oh, um… I don’t know… I…’ She felt completely overwhelmed and didn't know how to answer. Coming here for a nice night out and then being offered a freaking job, within the first fifteen minutes of her being in the room? That’s so not how she’d thought her evening would go.

‘Leave the girl alone, boys. She’s got enough on her plate without you two barreling into her life and taking over.’ Rich shook his head at the men.

Jensen held up his hands in defence. 

‘Hey, it would just be for the weekends, mostly Friday night to Sunday; sometimes Thursday nights, too. It wouldn't interfere too much with a normal job. It’d pay like any other job, and we could do complimentary food, drink and lodging and unrestricted access to all areas. Might be something extra in it too. We’d make it worth your while.’ He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes at her in an attempt to… 

What? Look convincing? Cute? What? It was darn creepy, that was what it was. Especially with all the double entendres in there. Kismet cleared her throat and looked up at Jared, trying to read his face. She was unsure if Jensen was pranking her again or if he was serious.

Jared snorted as his eyes flicked to his friend and colleague.

‘Unrestricted access? To all areas, hm? With extras? With who, dude? Not me. I’m, like, happily married.’ 

Jensen blinked at Jared, flabbergasted by his demeanour, until he suddenly realised what had just come out of his mouth. His shoulders slumped.

‘Aw fuck, I didn’t mean it like that…’ He looked back down at her. ‘I’m completely serious.’

Kismet frowned, pretending to be a bit miffed. Jensen had apparently meant every word he said about the job. No pranking. It sounded like a good gig, with a semi-steady income, especially now that she wasn’t able to take high profile jobs because of her stroke; as long as she could bring her daughter with her, she’d be inclined to give it a chance. Not that she would tell them that, yet.

She decided to give them a bit of payback for the groupie and pixie comments and have a bit of fun at their expense.

‘Strange, sounded like you did mean it like that. You can’t just go around and harass women like that, Jensen. Can’t say I’m overly impressed with your people skills, guys. I’m seriously considering reporting you both to SDCC right now.’ 

Both men looked at her in shock. 

‘Oh, no, no nonono. Don't do that. We were just messin’ with you! We’re not really sexist assholes!’ Jared exclaimed, holding out his hands to her with the palms up.

She folded her arms in front of her, frowning up at the giant man.

‘Could’ve fooled me. You made me really uncomfortable with your behaviour.’ Rubbing her upper arms she pretended to shiver, and her eyes filled with tears as she let herself shrink a bit more into Rich’s side.

Rich looked down at her sharply and rubbed her back as he bent over to look at her.

‘Hey, darlin’, they were just playin’. Wasn't meant to make you feel unsafe.’

Kismet sniffed and she let her lower lip wobble a bit. Her eyes were shining with moisture when she glanced at each of the men.

‘Well, they sure as hell came across as if they wanted to.’ She was so proud of the tremor in her voice.

Jared and Jensen looked so regretful and apologetic, it was like she was looking at two little boys who had just been thoroughly told off for a transgression. _Serves them right, bloody, pranking bastards._ She thought vengefully.

‘Gen’s gonna kill me when she find’s out… And you know she’ll find out. She always does.’ Jared groaned at Jensen and he raked his hands through his long locks, clearly stressed out by the thought of his wife finding out that he’d treated a woman badly.

‘We’re really, really sorry. It was just a joke. We’re not like that.’ Jensen tried to reassure her, his face so sincerely apologetic that Kismet felt a bit sorry for him. Just a bit. Not enough to not enjoy their squirming.

Kismet stood straight and the corners of her mouth quirked up.

‘Good. Don't let it happen again.’ She blinked the crocodile tears away and unfolded her arms.

Jared gaped at her.

‘Wha…’

‘Sonovabitch…’ Jensen groaned. ‘You were yanking our chains?!’ He rubbed his hands over his face as he gazed at her wearily.

Rich looked her with such an impressed expression on his face that she blushed. He burst out laughing.

‘Man, you guys have been hung, drawn and quartered! By a girl half your sizes! She just slayed you! You! The Masters of Prank! Whooo! You’ve been crushed, guys! Absolutely crushed!’

‘Yeah yeah. We got it, we’ve been beaten at our own game. No need to get all smug about it on her behalf.’ Jensen gestured at Kismet and sighed in relief.

Rich turned Kismet toward him and laid his hands on her shoulders as he looked her in the eyes.

‘You and I have a lot to talk about later. Especially about a small show called ‘Kings of Con’ and some ideas I’m coming up with as we speak.’

She raised an eyebrow, confused by his words.

‘Kings of what now?’ 

Rich’s mouth fell open.

‘What? You don't know Kings of Con?! What kind of fan are you?!’

‘Um… The kind who started watching Supernatural seven months ago, because my daughter got me a boxed set of dvd’s to watch while in hospital? Dude, I had a stroke. It’s not like my attention span is what one can call great, at the moment. I’ve only just caught up with season eleven.’

‘Whoah, wait, you had a stroke?’ Jared looked at her with a mixture of concern and compassion.

Kismet looked up at him and gave him a wry smile.

‘Yup.’ She popped the p. ‘A full blown bleed in the brain, leaving me in a coma for two weeks.’ She tapped the left side of her head.

‘But you’re so young.’ Jensen sounded astonished. ‘I mean, Rob was young when he had his, but not as young as you are.’

‘Well, let’s say it’s a thing of all ages.’ She answered. ‘But I’m not as young as you probably think.’

‘What, you can’t be older than your late twenties. Right?’ 

‘Heh. You’re hilarious. I’m thirty-five.’ She snickered at their surprised faces.

‘You’re my age?’ Jared asked, flabbergasted.

‘If you’re thirty-five, then, yeah. I was born in May nineteen-eighty-two.’ Next to her she heard a surprised sound come from Rich. _‘Shit, bye-bye, cradle robber jokes.’_ he mumbled softly. Kismet looked to the side to see what was going on with him, but his face gave nothing away. _Probably wasn't supposed to hear that,_ she mused.

Jensen laughed at Jared’s disappointed face.

‘Shiiiiiit, she’s older than you are, Jare!’

Behind them, the band ended their soundcheck with a few short, and loud, guitar solos and then the music stopped.

Jensen and Jared looked up at something behind Rich and Kismet. Jensen wiggling his eyebrows as he looked over Kismet’s head at someone walking up to them.

She heard footsteps come closer, and as she turned around and ducked from under Rich’ arm, Rob spoke.

‘Who is the magician that fixed the sound? They’re so awesome I could just kiss ‘em… Oh… Kismet?’ He let out a surprised breath when he saw it was her and his cheeks reddened as he took in her appearance. He looked her up and down and gestured at her legs. ‘You’re up, um, walking… You’re here… You look different.’ He stammered, smiling bashfully at her.

_‘She’s not the only one who’s up. Did you see how he checked out her ass?’_ She heard Jensen say under his breath to Jared, who snickered. She was very sure she wasn't supposed to pick up on that, but she did and she started to blush. Rob had been looking at her arse? She felt the slight blush creep up her neck and into her face.

‘Um, yes, I slept for four hours. Replenished some of my strength and balance… And washed the cosplay makeup off. Felicia did my hair. Hi, Rob. You look nice too.’ She gave him an awkward wave and a slight smile. ‘And, um, Sound-Magicians-R-Us, that would be me.’She gave him a two thumbs up.

Rob smiled widely at her and her heart rate sped up at the sight of the radiant, handsome face with the square jaw, which was now more visible beneath the stubble. He’d apparently found the time to trim the facial hair he had been sporting, between the last time she’d seen him and now. It made him look younger somehow.

‘Really? You’re the one who fixed the sound? Wow, that’s fantastic!’ He positively beamed with happiness.

Kismet nodded silently, twiddling her fingers awkwardly as he kept smiling his bright smile. She was feeling quite shy and a bit overwhelmed by the man’s laser focus on her person.

_‘Awww, they’re both so awkwardly cute.’_ Jared whispered to Jensen, behind her. Jensen chuckled and cleared his throat. 

This made her realise that she and Rob were still gazing at each other like a pair of loons, as the others looked on. Oh. Shit. She swallowed awkwardly and looked away, suddenly feeling shy.

‘What’s up with the abrupt change in facial hair, Rob?’ Jared asked, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

‘Yeah Rob, Why’d you trim it? You usually don't bother.’ It looked like Rich also couldn't help but tease Rob with the sudden difference in visage.

Rob rubbed the stubble on his cheeks that now emphasised his strong features, instead of them being obscured by the bushy beard of that afternoon.

‘Oh, I wanted a bit of a change. San Diego is too warm for a full beard.’ He coloured a bit as he said it.

‘Uh-huh. And LA is almost like the North Pole.’ Was all that came from Jared. His sarcasm clearly said that he wasn't buying it. Rob awkwardly cleared his throat as he quickly sent a glance Kismet’s way.

‘Well, go on then.’ Jensen said out loud, snickering a bit.

Kismet turned back to him and saw Jensen wiggle his eyebrows at Rob. She looked at Rob and saw him send his cast mate a confused look.

‘Go on? To do what?’ He asked, raising his eyebrows, looking around the stage as if the answer could be found there.

‘Kiss the magician, of course, like you said you would. She’s the one who fixed the sound and saved our night.’ Jensen looked positively diabolical as he grinned at Rob; his tongue peaking from between his teeth. He was clearly enjoying provoking his friend.

‘I… Um… Oh… Well…’ Rob stammered. He rubbed his neck and looked quite uncomfortable. He hunched his shoulders over a bit and is body language became closed off as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

Kismet blew out an irritated breath and glared at Jensen; the man seemed to be the poster child for inappropriate banter.

‘Stop buggering him, you barmy chav. You think I’d just accept such nonsense, like a bint? I ain’t no slag. Pushing yer skanky intentions on us like that! You bloody gormless tosser!’ She exploded at him before she could reign in her temper.

Oh shit. That was so fucking rude. And it just flew out. It seemed like she just couldn't help it. Her eyes went wide as she waited for the backlash.

It didn't come.

The men just stood there and looked at her with clueless expressions on their faces.

‘Wha?…’ Jared looked a bit stunned as he tried to get the word out.

Rich burst out laughing; his amusement getting a few puzzled chuckles from the other men.

‘I could hear you speaking English, but I have no idea what you just said. It sounded awesome, though!’

Kismet blushed furiously as she tried to come up with an explanation. How was this her life? Ugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-show shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but my OCs.
> 
> I make no money from writing this story.
> 
> This is my Supernatural Sandbox. :)

**Chapter 5**

 

From backstage a booming laugh was heard by the people who were on the stage. Several heads turned towards the highly amused sound.

‘Little tyke’s got a mouth on her like a bloomin' codger! Who was that? I like her already!’ Mark Sheppard stepped out on stage; grinning from ear to ear. He looked over his co-workers and spotted her almost immediately. 

‘Well, hello there, darling. Aren't you the cutest, foul-mouthed, English girl I’ve seen in a long while.’

Kismet sent him an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry.’ She whispered.

‘No worries, darling. Hi, I’m Mark.’

She shook his proffered hand.

‘Kismet Jones.’

‘What did she just say to me?’ Jensen asked Mark, raising his eyebrows in perplexity, obviously trying to get Mark to translate for him.

Mark pulled a face and he glanced briefly at a very embarrassed Kismet.

‘Yeah, not going to repeat that. Let’s just say that she wasn't happy you tried to push her and Rob into a dubious situation, without asking her -or his- consent and she crudely questioned and insulted your integrity, your decency, and your pedigree, as a result.’

‘Oh.’ Jensen sounded amused as he gazed down at her with an impressed expression on his face. 

_Fucker_. Kismet frowned darkly at him and he quickly schooled his features into a semblance of contrition.

Rob barked out a laugh and the corners of his eyes crinkled, as he glanced at Kismet appreciatively. She shyly let her gaze trail up to his, the corners of her lips lifting up a bit at seeing his mirth as he sent her a wink. She was surprised by the amused look in his blue eyes. She’d just insulted his friend; he should be cross with her, but apparently they were so used to pranking each other like this, that everyone took her outburst in stride. 

Feeling a bit flushed, she looked away and quietly cleared her throat. Why the hell had she let herself be talked into this evening being a good idea? She didn't know these people. They didn't know her. She was beginning to feel so awkward.

She listened to Jared, Jensen, Mark and Rich exchanging lighthearted banter about the Brits and their weird language. They looked so comfortable in each other’s company. Working together for over a decade -give or take a few years for a couple of them-, had made them more than colleagues and even more than friends. They were family. 

It made her feel slightly melancholic to see them like this, the deep bond she observed in them reminding her that the only ones in this world who were _her_ family were Frida and Felicia. 

She sighed wistfully when she turned away from the four men, only to come nose to firm chest with Rob, who apparently had come to stand very close to her.

She stumbled a bit, her balance thrown off because of her trying to not bump into him. His hands came up and grabbed her by the upper arms to keep her steady.

She looked up into his eyes - _my god, how does anyone have eyes that blue?_ \- and gave him an uncertain smile.

‘Hi.’

He gave her a soft smile; his thumbs caressing her arms where he was still holding her. The movement over her skin made butterflies flutter in her tummy.

‘Hi... So, you came.’

She nodded.

‘I did. Where do you want me?’ Rob’s expression turned from friendly, to mischievous, and then to something much more intense. Realising her mistake, she back-pedalled. ‘Um, I mean, you… um, do you have somewhere I can sit for the night? I brought my chair.’ She gestured to the wheelchair that was still standing in the corner of the ballroom, near the stage. Hoping to distract him from her faux pas.

Rob’s gaze followed her gesture and he spotted the chair. He released her arms to walk to the edge of the stage. He jumped from the stage gracefully, making his way to the chair and picking it up.

‘Wow, this thing weighs nothing.’ He let out a low whistle in surprise as he set it down on the stage and hopped back up onto it himself; placing one hand on the stage and easily conquering the height difference with a strong push from his legs. 

‘Yeah, it’s made from carbon fiber. Its weight is just south of eight pounds and it can be disassembled so it fits in the back of a car.’ Kismet let her hand appreciatively glide over the smooth lightweight material. ‘It’s been a lifesaver. Even in the beginning, when I got out of hospital and I was still so weak, the chair was light enough for me to handle without help. And of course it’s ideal for a ten-year-old to pick up and assemble without help from grown-ups. The designer deserves all the awards for this engineering miracle.’

‘It’s amazing.’ Rob agreed. ‘Is it okay if we store it in the wings? That way you won’t have to be afraid to lose it in the crowd and you’ll have it close at hand should you need it.’

Kismet smiled at him gratefully and nodded.

‘That would be great, thank you.’

He looked at her for a few moments; observing her. He was obviously pondering something, concerning her.

'What?' She asked, curious about his clear hesitance to ask her a question.

‘Would... um, would you like to be on stage with me… um, with us, tonight?’ His question came out of the blue.

Her gaze flew to his and she felt surprise overtake her.

‘What? Why? I’m not on the show.’

‘Well, it’s karaoke night, so we always invite a few people on stage with us, to sing.’

‘Oh, but I don’t really sing.’ Kismet shook her head as she tried to discern why he would spring a question on her like that. She'd never even sung karaoke. 

‘But… I heard you sing, this afternoon. You have a fantastic voice. You were singing Hallelujah. It was beautiful. You can’t tell me you don't sing, I heard you.’ Rob looked at her imploringly.

She laughed.

‘Oh that. Well, before I lost my words because of the stroke, I hadn't ever really sung before. Just in the shower sometimes, you know. After I woke up from my coma, I was enrolled into an experimental vocal recovery treatment to help me speak again. Sing therapy was part of my speech revalidation program. They use music to help you get your pronunciation and flow of language back. It really helped me.’ Her thoughts were far away as she looked down at her wheelchair and remembered those difficult first months.

‘I’d really like it if you wanted to sing with me tonight.’ Rob said softly, stepping closer to her and taking her right hand in his left, caressing the knuckles with his thumb. Her eyes shifted from the chair to the strong hand that was holding hers. It looked so big compared to her hand. 

She knew that, compared to other men, Rob wasn't tall, but with his five foot seven-ish height, he was still almost nine inches taller than her extremely limited height of four foot ten, and he was much more solidly built than she. 

It hadn't escaped her attention, that, in spite of him being on the short side, he didn't have the slender, reedy build that seemed to be so common in so many men his height. His shoulders and chest were broad and his pecs and arms were well-muscled. She definitely appreciated the way he filled out the slightly tight, black t-shirt -with Nirvana print- he was wearing. The short sleeves partly showing off his biceps; leaving his well-defined lower arms, adorned with black and brown leather and bead bracelets, on full display.

Nervously wetting her lips, she looked up into his eyes and lost her train of thought because of what she saw there. Hope and a nervous anticipation were mixed with tenderness and a strange sort of intensity that made her feel a bit overwhelmed and giddy at the same time. 

He looked at her expectantly and it suddenly occurred to her that he was still waiting for her answer.

‘Um, well, I'm not... I guess... if the others are okay with it… I don’t know…’ She trailed off, a bit unsure if this really was something that she’d enjoy. She’d always been the one working backstage on any creative project she was hired for, and she’d never even had the ambition to perform on stage, or in front of the cameras. She’d always found herself to be too shy and anxious to consider such a bold career move. ‘I’ve never really been on stage before. I'm not a performer; I usually work behind the scenes.’ 

Rob chuckled.

‘Don’t worry, most of the people who are singing tonight haven't been on a stage before, either. The Karaoke Night gives our fans a chance to sing on stage with us and we’re also doing a Thursday Night Special, because of Comic Con having no room for us on Saturday, so there will be a lot of people on stage, both fans and members of the cast. It’s a bit of a chaotic mash-up. You won’t be singing alone if you don't want to be. Although… I was secretly hoping you’d sing Hallelujah, with just me as your singing partner and the band backing us.’ 

Kismet stared up at him, taking in the bright blue eyes that looked at her with such an open and hopeful expression that it made her feel like she couldn't refuse him anything, as long as just kept looking at her like that. 

She bit her full lower lip in thought and noticed his gaze flick down to her mouth, before travelling back up to her eyes, the blue suddenly darker and the pupils dilated. He fidgeted with her hand and breathed in deeply through his nose, seemingly trying to calm himself down. Kismet tilted her head and sharply took in his changed expression and body language. Could it be that he felt it too? This attraction?   
Quickly she made her decision, before she chickened out.

Taking a deep breath, she acquiesced.

‘Okay.’ 

‘Okay?’ The smile that broke on his face was broad and relieved.

‘Yes. Okay.’ She smiled back up at him. ‘I’ll sing a song with you. One song. After that, I’m sitting down to enjoy the show. Okay?’

‘Okay.’ He grinned elatedly and opened his arms in an invitation for a hug. She stepped into him and he enveloped her in an all encompassing embrace. ‘Thank you.’ He whispered next to her ear. A bolt of electricity and heat shot straight down to her core and the intensity of it caused her knees to wobble and almost give out. She could feel herself tilt to the side in Rob’s embrace, her equilibrium not as recovered as she had initially hoped. Especially not when she was being hugged by a man she fancied, apparently.

‘Oh, shite.’ she breathed and gripped the back of Rob’s t-shirt in both hands as his arms tightened around her and kept her upright, pulling her up against his strong frame. 

‘I got you.’ He said quietly. ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded with her face pressed against his chest - _oh wow, he smells nice_ \- as she found her balance again. ‘Yeah, thanks.’ she mumbled. It didn't escape her notice that he held on to her longer than was absolutely necessary. It felt nice. Sighing softly she leaned into him and he didn't protest or made to let go of her. If anything, he snuggled up to her even more.

Kismet wondered if he was always this cuddly, or if he was just like this with her. Maybe it was normal for him and he didn't mean anything by it...

‘Aaaaaaand here we have an _almost_ beardless Rob Benedict and a very sexy, raven-haired mystery woman, ladies and gentlemen. _Caught in the act_ … of hugging it out.’ Rich, who had been standing off to the side, talking to Mark Sheppard, now had his phone out and was pointing the camera at them, stepping closer to them.

‘Oh, Jesus.’ Rob said with a long-suffering sigh. He released her carefully from the hug, making sure she was able to stand without assistance, but still kept his left arm around her waist, his hand gripping her left hip, pulling her into his side. Kismet had to admit it felt nice to be held by him, like this.

‘Um… What are you doing, Rich?’ Kismet asked, frowning at the phone that was quickly coming closer to their faces. She pulled her head back when he came a bit too close.

‘Oh, this? I do a little bit for the fans on the internet when we’re at cons. Creation Ent. and Comic Con asked me to man the SnapChat for this weekend, so that’s what I’m doing right now. Giving the fans a backstage view. Say, hi, Honey.’ He held the phone almost against her face for an extreme close-up.

‘Hi, Honey.’ Kismet deadpanned into the lens. Next to her Rob snickered, but it sounded a bit off. 

She could feel how high strung he was from the slight tremors that coursed through his body. He almost vibrated against her. She didn't know if it was from nerves for the performance tonight, or from Rich suddenly being all up in his business with the phone. She suspected it was a mix of these two things.

Slowly she let her right arm, which was caught between them, slide around his lower back and she hooked her index finger in one of the belt loops on his right hip. She gently hugged her arm around him in support, letting him know that she’d felt his uneasiness at his friend’s antics with the phone. His hand tightened on her hip, squeezing her in acknowledgement of her support and then relaxing again. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something Funny, Something Sweet. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in posting. 
> 
> I've been battling a very nasty case of the flu for the past 10 days and haven't had the energy to write. I'm getting better now and I'm trying to pick up the slack.
> 
> I own nothing. Except my OCs and the storyline. 
> 
> I make no money from this story.
> 
> This is my Sandbox.

**Chapter 6**

 

Rich turned the phone so the camera was on him.

‘That lovely, but uncooperative woman is our new convention tech fairy!’ 

Kismet scoffed; she hadn't even agreed with being the tech person for their conventions, yet. He was getting ahead of himself.

‘That’s not even official, Rich. I just fixed some minor stuff for you guys.’

Rich turned the camera back to them, completely ignoring her remark.

‘That’s not true, she saved our night of music and fun. I’d say that it was quite major stuff she fixed. She’s too modest. Isn’t she just adorable? She’s so tiny, she makes even Rob look tall! See?’ He stepped back to zoom out a bit, so he could show the audience the quite significant difference in height between her and Rob.

‘Hey!’ Kismet protested, frowning. ‘Who are you calling tiny, shorty?!’

‘Ouch, darlin’, that’s a bit harsh.' He leant over to the camera, so he was in the shot, too, and bemoaned, 'You see what I have to work with? Those itty bitty pixies look so darn cute, but they have a nasty bite!’  
  
‘Rich, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re very annoying.’ She shook her head at him in exasperation. Next to her, Rob giggled. She could feel him relaxing a bit under her arm and smiled to herself.

Rich wiggled his brows at the lens and turned it back on her.

“See what I mean? No filter.’

He twiddled with the phone for a second and then turned the camera to Rob.

‘So, Rob, what’s the name of this mystery woman you’ve been snuggling up to?’

Well, that was a quite invasive and highly suggestive question. He was just hugging her in thanks for her acquiescing to singing a song. Nothing more. Rich made it sound like something naughty.

Rob closed his eyes in annoyance, sighing deeply.

‘Fuck off, Rich.’ He groaned, looking like he was feeling very uncomfortable from his friend’s questions. 

Kismet felt sorry for him, until she saw his mouth tilt up a bit at the corner. She suddenly understood he wasn't really angry with Rich and she saw a slightly amused twinkle in his eyes, just before he scrunched up his face. It was mostly an act that he and Rich had played out numerous times before, on stage, and with different variables. 

He didn't say anything else to the camera, though, and kept his face all scrunched up until the phone was taken away from his face, clearly not willing to talk about whatever Rich was trying to pry from him.

‘Fine, be like that. You old grouch.’ Rich said fondly to his friend as he turned the camera back to himself. ‘But… Can you then at least give me the name of this SnapChat Show? Come on… You know you want to…’ He said to Rob, who was now cautiously opening one eye to look at his friend.

Rich had the camera back in Rob’s face within a microsecond and Rob flinched back slightly from the sudden movement.

‘Come on… Say it! Say it!’ Rich goaded him.

Rob huffed out a laugh.

‘Jesus, Rich.’

‘Come on, Robbie, say it!’ 

‘Hmmmm… DickChat!’ He suddenly called out loudly, grinning into the lens.

Kismet raised an eyebrow at Rich, who had now pointed the camera at her again; probably going to try and get her to say it too. She didn't disappoint. Only she wasn’t saying it to make Rich happy.

‘DickChat? Rich. Really? Does that mean that WankChat, CockChat and ArseChat were already taken?’ She asked incredulously.

Rich burst out laughing. ‘Don’t you just love that sassy English accent?!’ He said to Rob, who was rolling his eyes at his friend.

Kismet flipped Rich, and, accidentally, the camera, off with the index and middle fingers of her left hand, in a two fingered salute. He really was very annoying sometimes and she just couldn't help herself.

’And Cut. That’s a wrap for this segment. See you guys later! I’ll be back with more juicy backstage gossip and onstage footage later tonight. Stay tuned!’ Rich said into the phone camera just before he posted the snaps and exited the app. 

‘Aw, shite, that’s going to be on the chat?’ Kismet groaned. She hadn't thought that Rich had continued rolling after he’d made the English accent joke.

‘Well, of course it is. It’s DickChat after all. We don't pull our freaky punches. This is comedy gold and it’s gonna blow up the Supernatural side of the interwebz.’ He snickered. ‘You, my lady, are hilarious, and everyone is gonna want to know who you are. Especially because you and our rock-God over here looked so snuggly. There’s gonna be a lot of ladies who will be very curious about all this.’ He moved his hand as he pointed between her and Rob in a circular motion.

‘Couldn’t keep things under wraps could you, Rich? Ever heard of oversharing?’ Rob sighed, rubbing his right hand over his face. He looked a bit embarrassed.

‘Hey, dude, I just let them know you’re off the market.’

Kismet looked up at Rob, flabbergasted. _Wait… Off the market? Which market?… What?!_

‘What’s he talking about?’ Her voice was quite a bit higher than it usually was and she quickly cleared her throat.

Rob said nothing, but his cheeks were getting suspiciously pink. He looked equal amounts mortified and irritated. If looks could kill, Rich would be dust.

‘Oh, darlin’, I’m talking about Rob being all head over heels for ya. He’s been single for the last eighteen months and I’ve never seen him look at a gal the way he looks at you. Not even at his ex-wife, when she was still his wife. At least not since I’ve known him.’ Rich snickered as he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders; effectively sandwiching her between Rob and himself. ‘He’s been completely blindsided by your loveliness ever since he laid eyes on you this afternoon.’

Kismet felt her eyes widen as Rich divulged this information. Well, this was quite the bombshell Rich had just dropped in their midst. Her heart was beating in her ears as she tried to process the -maybe not completely unwelcome- information. 

‘What?…’ She whispered, completely surprised by Rich’ disclosure; her brain not completely computing what was going on.

She looked from Rich to Rob to see if Rich was telling the truth. Rob was looking down at her with a panicky expression on his face. He licked his lips nervously as he looked back up to Rich, narrowing his eyes at the man.

‘Rich, you're such a dick. You just couldn't let it go, could you?’ Rob groaned at his friend, who was grinning at him unabashedly. He looked very wary when he once again glanced down at her. 

‘I’m so sorry for all this. You must think us completely nuts. And you wouldn’t be wrong in that assumption. This whole situation is crazy.’ His face contorted into something akin to regret. ‘I’m sorry.’ He repeated, and made to take his hand away from her waist and step away from her, but she just hugged him to her; refusing to let go of the belt loop she’d hooked her finger through. He gave her a surprised look.

‘Sorry for what? For liking someone? That’s not a crime, Rob.’ She said softly as she gave him a crooked smile. ‘I… um… I happen to think you’re sweet… and handsome… and very cute.’ She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she admitted this. Her heart racing in excitement when she suddenly felt a bit giddy with nerves.

He looked searchingly into her eyes.

‘Really?’ He sounded so unsure. It was heart-wrenching. 

‘Really, really.’ She assured him and tightened her arm around him to reinforce her words. His gaze stayed locked on hers, as if he still couldn’t believe what she’d said. She gave him a shy smile.

‘See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, Robbo?’ Rich asked, teasingly, patting Rob on the back encouragingly.

Rob looked away from her, his expression momentarily settling on annoyed. He grumbled something under his breath and gave Rich a playful shove; forcing the man let go of her shoulders. Rich stepped away with a laugh, and a grin that said that he believed his work here was done. He walked back to Mark with a spring in his step; visibly pleased with himself.

Kismet watched him go, shaking her head in wonder.

‘He’s really something, isn’t he?’ She snickered.

‘He’s something, alright.’ Rob said, sounding a bit disgruntled.

She laughed as she looked up at his annoyed expression.

‘He means well, I suspect.’ She said, feeling highly amused.

‘He means to keep me off kilter for the whole weekend. That’s what he means to do. He lives to tease and create chaos. When they cast him as the Trickster, they didn’t know how spot on they really were.’ He shook his head at his friend’s retreating back, a twinkle returning to his eyes. Kismet could see how much the two men cared for each other’s wellbeing.

Rob took a deep breath and turned back to her.

‘So, would you like to go out with me this weekend?’ He asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

Kismet smiled and nodded.

‘Sure, I have both evenings off, so we could grab some dinner tomorrow, or Saturday. We can have a drink somewhere, afterwards, if you’d like.’

She suddenly found herself in Rob’s arms again. He was hugging her like he was never going to let go, like, ever. She sucked in a breath in surprise.

‘Oh, thank god, I thought he’d fucked everything up with his pushy behaviour.’ He said next to her ear, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of her neck, making her shiver. He pulled back slightly to look at her face.

‘He didn't fuck everything up, did he?’ His anxiety was showing a bit as he asked for her reassurance.

She shyly smiled up at him and shook her head.

‘No, he didn’t, don’t worry.’ She could see the relief on his face, just before it was replaced with a more intense expression.

His right arm slid down from her shoulder, across her spine, and landed on the small of her back, just above the curve of her bum, and his left hand found its way to her face, cradling her jaw. Caressing her cheekbone with his thumb, he used the hand on her back to pull her tightly against him.

_Wait… Is he going to k…_

Kismet’s mind went quiet when he softly pressed his lips to hers; the touch so light and searching she could hardly call it a kiss, but it couldn't have had a bigger impact on her. At first she kept completely still from shock and then another shiver ran through her, igniting a fire where there had been smouldering embers ever since she’d met him that afternoon. 

She bridged the distance between them when he started to pull back a bit, probably wondering about her lack of cooperation, and enthusiastically kissed him back, increasing the pressure on their lips, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She moaned softly when she felt his tongue caress the seam of her lips and she opened up to the slight pressure; his tongue coaxing hers into a sensual dance that became more heated by the second. A groan escaped Rob as he pulled her more tightly against him, his hand sliding from her hip to her bum, moulding his body to hers. She gasped against his mouth when she felt his growing arousal press into her tummy.

Suddenly there was a loud clearing of a throat behind them. 

‘Robbo, doors open in five. Gotta go backstage.’ Rich said apologetically.

Rob groaned frustratedly into her mouth as he ended the kiss with a few, still quite heated, openmouthed, nibbling pecks to her slightly swollen lips. He leaned his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes, smiling softly, his pupils blown wide with lust. They were both slightly out of breath, Kismet noticed.

‘Looks like we’re a bit pressed for time.’ His voice sounded a bit hoarse.

‘Yeah, looks like…’ Kismet agreed, with a slightly breathless voice, still not believing that this was actually happening. Her brain was working overtime, trying to catch up with the reality of the situation. Things like these… They just didn’t happen. Not in her world at least. Until now, apparently, because now they did. It was astonishing.

She loosened her arms from around his neck and buried her hands in the hair on the back of his head, playing with the curls she found there. Laying her head on his shoulder, she sighed. She placed a soft kiss on the stubble of his jaw, where it met his neck, and felt a light shock go through him, his hips tilting forward, pressing against her tummy, before he growled softly in the back of his throat. ‘Careful, darling.’ His voice was quiet in its intensity. 

Another shiver travelled down her spine and she knew he felt it, because he pressed his body even closer to hers. He gave her a last soft peck on her lips and then hesitantly let go of her until he was only supporting her with a hand to her elbow.

Kismet struggled to get herself under control. She took a deep, cleansing breath and then looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful smile.

‘So, where am I going to be sitting tonight?’ She was pointing out the lack of chairs in front of the stage. While they had been talking - _and, um, kissing,_ her brain helpfully provided.-, the con’s volunteers had removed the first ten to fifteen front rows of chairs, so there was more standing room in front of the stage for people to watch the concert and the karaoke.

Rob frowned at the huge gap that was now between the stage and the first row of chairs. There were going to be a lot of people between Kismet and the stage if she sat on one of the chairs that were available.

‘Um, yeah, hadn’t really thought about that.’ He mumbled. ‘How about we put your wheelchair on stage, but to the side? Next to the sound panel, so you can see everything and still be a bit out of the way of us weirdos, who will be jumping around the stage. And if you sit there, you’ll be able to participate if you want. You won’t have to climb up onto the stage.’

‘And I’ll be close by the panel in case anything goes wrong with the sound again. You’ll have the tech fairy’s magic tech hands close by.’ She wiggled her fingers and winked at him teasingly, seeing him flush a bit.

‘That… That wasn’t why I suggested it.’ He stammered, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

Kismet snickered and smiled, laying a hand on his upper arm, giving him a comforting squeeze.

‘I know that, Rob, I was just teasing. Still… Mighty convenient, isn’t it?’

He chuckled.

‘I guess.’

‘ROBBO!’ came Rich’s loud shout from behind the stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!’ Rob yelled back, sounding a bit irritated.

'Not yet you're not!' Was Rich's instant reply. Rob groaned and facepalmed, his cheeks turning pink again.

‘Sorry ‘bout that.’ he said apologetically to Kismet, who just shrugged to show him it was okay. 

He sighed and gestured for Kismet to take her seat.

‘Let’s get you settled.’ 

Kismet sat down in her chair and Rob wheeled her to the side of the stage, parking her right next to the sound panel. When she was comfortable, he bent over and gave her a soft, quick kiss.

‘I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.’ He whispered.

‘Okay.’ Kismet answered quietly. He smiled and straightened before quickly strolling over to the curtain that divided the front of the stage from the backstage part, and disappearing behind it.

Kismet leant back into the comfort of her chair, and waited for the show to begin, as the doors for the public opened and people streamed in to take their places in front of the stage; each and everyone of them looking forward to the night ahead. Just as she was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such sweetness... :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> I make no money with this story.
> 
> This is my Supernatural Sandbox. :)  
> \------------------------------
> 
> Phew. Long time no see, peeps!
> 
> That's what you get when you contract three types of flue within ten weeks; one 'normal' flue, one stomach flu, and one helluva nasty throat infection that had me out for the count for THREE flippin' weeks. Damnit... And on top of that, we had to get our house ready for sale. Oomph...  
> I'm fighting my way back, but my time behind the keyboard is limited, with house sale, work, and kids, on my plate; so, updates will be patchy and spread out a bit more. Sorry about that. :'(

**Chapter 7**

 

The concert had started with Louden Swain doing half an hour of their own songs. Most of Kismet’s favourite songs had been played and she loved it that she was seeing everything from close quarters. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Rob kept sneaking glances and small smiles her way from behind his mic, throughout the concert. It made her feel all warm inside -and more than a bit nervous, if she was completely honest with herself-.

About thirty minutes into the gig, the band started pulling up guest after guest from backstage until almost all of the present Supernatural cast had sung a song for the screaming and laughing and dancing fans, sometimes with Rob participating in a song.

Kismet was smiling and applauding after Jensen left the stage after doing the song 'whipping post’, wondering who would be next, when Rob started to speak into the microphone. He sounded a bit shy and he nervously wet his lower lip with his tongue before addressing the crowd.

‘Now, I wanted to ask someone onto the stage whom we’ve only met today, but who saved our asses tonight. Without her there would be no Thursday Night Special and no Karaoke, and you wouldn’t have gotten the show that you paid for. You don’t know her, yet, but we’ve come to know her over the past few hours and I have to tell you, she’s a wizard with sound equipment and robotics. Some of you may have already seen her come by on Rich’s DickChat, when he was pestering me and our cast-mates…’ 

Kismet swallowed thickly. _Oh… Shite… He really wants to do this…_ Nerves exploded in her tummy and she held her cold hands against her cheeks to temper the sudden heat that crept up her face. She took a deep breath to steady the sudden surge of stress that ricocheted through her.

‘Besides her being this Karaoke’s tech fairy heroine, she can also sing, and quite well. I heard her sing this afternoon and I asked her if she would sing a song with us tonight. She acquiesced, under a certain condition. This condition being that she wasn’t too tired tonight. I’m telling you this, because only seven months ago, she had a stroke and she’s still recovering. She was a bit worse off than I was and has some trouble walking and keeping her balance every now and then. She was in a coma for a couple of weeks and the right side of her body was paralysed when she woke up. It looked pretty bad for her, but she’s not someone to just give up when people say she can’t do something, so she fought her way back to where she is now, and I for one am so very glad that she can be with us tonight.’ Kismet noticed how his voice had become quite emotional over the course of his introduction of her. She marvelled at how proud of her he sounded. ‘Everybody, give it up… for Kismet Jones!’

The room broke out into applause and yells and whistles as Rob turned toward her and beckoned her with his hand, a big, encouraging smile on his face. Kismet was suddenly very grateful for her rock-chick appearance and in her head thanked Felicia for her styling magic. She blew out a long breath and pushed herself up out of her chair. She was a bit more wobbly than she would have liked and held onto one of the wheels as she tried to straighten up.  
Looking at the distance between her and Rob, it suddenly looked insurmountable. She wasn’t sure she could make it. Her legs were shaking. She suspected both from fatigue and nervousness.

The smile fell from Rob’s face, replaced with a serious look. 

‘Are you okay?’ He asked in the microphone, his tone hesitant as he took a step towards her. 

A hush fell over the room as everyone seemed to collectively hold their breath as they gazed between Rob and herself.

She gave him a crooked smile and cleared her throat nervously.

‘Um, yeah, but I could use a little help.’ Her voice was quiet and a little shaky, but he heard her.

Before anyone else could react, Rob put down his guitar on the ground, and strode over to her. He took her elbow and helped her stand up, putting his arm around her back, his warm hand landing on her hip, to help her keep her balance.

‘Thanks.’ She murmured as he helped her to the microphone. She was sure that he could feel the tremors in her body.

‘No problem.’ He whispered back. Then, louder, he said, ‘Can we get one of those high stools out here, so she can sit?’

One of the con’s volunteers appeared from behind the curtain, quickly setting up a stool in front of the microphone, and disappeared again.

The crowd ‘Awww-ed’ when Rob proceeded to pick her up like she weighed nothing, his hands spanning her waist, and set her down onto the stool. Her hands shot to his shoulders to keep her balance.

When he hesitatingly let go of her, he looked her in the eye -They were on even footing now-.

‘You good?’ He asked, his face weary.

Kismet nodded and gave him a tightlipped smile.

‘Alright.’ He said, releasing a relieved sigh. Then, ‘We doing this?’

‘Yup. I guess so.’ This time she smiled warmly at him as she shuffled her arse slightly further up onto the stool, so she had a bit more support under and behind her body. The low back support was a lifesaver in her opinion. She looked down and discovered that she was quite a ways above the ground, her legs not even able to reach the footrest on the stool. Pulling a comically sceptical face, she leant towards the mic a bit. ‘So, is everyone who performs on this stage a giant, or what?’ She jokingly asked as she gestured at her high up position. ‘I feel like Tom Thumb, sitting on this stool.’ Swinging her legs like a child would, to emphasise her statement, she drew quite a few laughs from the crowd.

Rob grinned appreciatively at her antics.

‘Welcome to _my_ life.’ He countered her joke in a dry tone and without missing a beat. Laughter erupted, and quite a few whoops and whistles.

Shaking her head, Kismet slapped his shoulder in a display of solidarity.

‘I feel for you, my friend.’ She snickered, eliciting more laughs from their audience.

After a few more humorous remarks about being surrounded by giant oafs all day, Rob masterfully steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. Which was their song.

‘So, I’ve got this iPad, to help me with remembering lyrics, attached to the microphone.’ Rob explained to her as he pointed out the device. ‘You’re welcome to use it for reference.’ He scrolled to the lyrics of ‘Hallelujah’.

‘Okay, thanks. So, who starts? Do we sing together? Do we alternate?’ She was curious about how to do this and as Rob was the veteran singer and performer, she wanted a bit more instruction before starting the song. Both of them were so focused on the song to be sung, their two dark haired heads bowed together over the iPad, that they didn’t notice that the mic was still on and that the crowd was silently following their exchange with rapt attention. 

‘How about you start and I support. That way I can cut in if it gets too much.’ Rob offered quietly.

‘Okay.’ She could see the logic in that. ‘Let’s do this.’

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat, nodding at him to show she was ready. She had expected him to take up his guitar again and stand at the other mic on the stage, but he stood right next to her, his left hand behind her back on the backrest of the stool. He subtly sidled up to her so the left side of his body slightly propped up her right side. Secretly she was very grateful for this show of support and his attempt to help her keep her equilibrium during their performance. It helped her with feeling slightly less nervous as she wouldn’t have to worry about falling off of the stool if her right leg gave out.

He adjusted the mic and hauled it a bit closer, so that they would be both comfortable singing into it. 

‘Hi there. I’m Kismet.’ Kismet said shyly into the device. The audience was startled out of its quiet observing of the two people on stage and started to applaud and yell enthusiastically. ‘I’m sorry about the delay, but as you hopefully understand, I’m not as quick as I used to be. And I tire easily, which impedes with my walking and keeping my balance… For the past six months it’s been like I’ve been drunk every night, without having to drink a drop of alcohol…’ She was quiet for a second. Then, ‘Cheapest. date. ever.’ She joked with a wink, and everybody laughed. Next to her, she could feel Rob’s body vibrating from his snickering at her jest.

He leant forward and spoke into the mic.

‘So, I heard this lady singing a song this afternoon, and, coincidentally, it was one of the songs I regularly sing for all of you, usually with Jason Manns. Tonight, I’ll be singing it with Kismet.' Then, he added with a mischievous smile, 'Sorry ‘bout that, Jason…'

He nodded to the band and the first chords of the song started.

‘This is, ‘Hallelujah’.’ 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A convention. Some singing. Some flirting. 
> 
> Seen from Rich’ POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my Supernatural RPF Sandbox. I like my Supernatural Sandbox. :)
> 
> The only things I own are my OCs and the storyline you don’t recognise.
> 
> I make no money from this writing endeavour. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Chapter 8

 

Spellbound by the magical harmonising of their voices, one hoarsely low and raw, one moderately high and clear, Rich stood off to the side of the stage, filming a singing Kismet and Rob for his Dick-Chat segment on SnapChat. He had to blink away the wetness that had gathered in the corners of his eyes as they brought their song to an unbelievably fragile and beautiful end. _Holy crap..._

At first, Kismet had been so nervous, that she’d missed her cue to start the song. She’d mouthed a ‘ _shit_ ’ to herself, and then whispered a quick ‘ _sorry_ ’ to Rob, audible to the whole room because of the mic in front of her. Biting her lip, she’d visibly cringed. _Poor thing_. Rob just shook his head and had smiled a reassuring smile, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders for support. Rich had seen how his friend had whispered something into the woman’s ear, eliciting a slight nod and a hesitant, small smile from her. She’d relaxed minutely. _You go, brother!_

As the true professionals they were, the band had just played on, through the first verse, and then started the song again without missing a beat.

The second time around, Kismet had taken a deep breath, and began singing the lyrics at the exact right moment, her eyes closed in concentration and a slight frown appearing between her eyebrows as she’d reacted to Rob’s quietly whispered ‘ _now_ ’.

Her nerves could be heard in her voice. It had been soft and shaky at the beginning, but, over the next fifteen to twenty seconds, she’d rediscovered some of her confidence, and her voice had become more powerful; the husky quality of her speaking voice coming through in her singing. By the time the first verse was finished, Rich had completely understood Rob’s awe concerning her voice. She’d been pitch perfect the entire time, in spite of her nerves; her voice had an impressive range, and it was as clear as a bell, with a husky edge to it. 

When Rob had taken to singing the second verse, she’d started a harmonising second voice in a higher pitch than she’d sung the first verse in, and it had contrasted with Rob’s voice beautifully. _Where had that suddenly come from?_ Rich had seen a surprised expression shift onto Rob’s face. It had been the same surprise he, himself, had felt.

He’d observed how Rob had raised his eyebrows at Kismet while he sang, asking the silent question Rich was wondering about, too. Where the _hell_ had she learned to do that?! Kismet had only flashed him an amazed smile and had shrugged her shoulders as she shook her head. Which Rich had taken to mean that she’d had no idea how she was doing it. That she’d just been having some fun, and it had happened to come out right. And the having fun part was something that had been visible for everyone to see. After the hesitant beginning, Kismet had relaxed into the song, and the tiny woman on the tall stool had looked like she’d been having the time of her life. Singing her lungs out while being cosily snuggled up against his best friend.

As the song neared its climax, Kismet and Rob had started alternating the Hallelujahs, climbing in pitch, all the while looking at each other for the cues they needed to harmonise. Rob had had a big grin on his face, and somehow the usually slightly sad song was sad no more. Then they’d both broken eye contact at the same time, tempering the song and taking it into its final few hallelujahs; ending it on a very dainty, breakable note.

For a few seconds, which seemed to stretch into eternity, the whole room seemed to be holding its breath; the silence almost palpable. It was so quiet that Rich swore he would be able to hear a pin drop. Then the crowd suddenly burst into an earsplitting roar of applause, cries, shouts, and whistles; and the people who hadn’t been standing during the performance, stood up to give the couple on the stage a standing ovation.

Rich stopped filming his video and posted it to SnapChat after saving the whole thing to his phone - _for posterity_ -. The song would render quite a few online views, he reckoned. He knew that in the audience, there were a couple of women filming the whole show in High Definition. _Might be a good idea to ask for a copy, later tonight_ , he pondered as he let his gaze travel over the crowd. They were still going wild for Rob and Kismet’s performance. It was a well deserved praise.

On the stage, Robbo was hugging the petite woman and talking into her ear. Kismet had a big, proud smile on her face as she nodded and answered him while hugging him back. They looked as snug as two bugs in a rug, Rich concluded.

 _Time to make some waves_. Snickering to himself, he stepped up onto the stage and fished his mic out of his back pocket, which was where he’d stored it when he’d started to record the Hallelujah song. Turning it back on, he ran back up onto the stage, yelling a ‘ **whoohoooo!** ’ as he approached the two singers who were now bowing to the crowd.

‘That. Was. _**Awesome!**_ ’ He told them, speaking into the mic and causing the audience to roar in agreement; a wide grin split his face almost in two. Giving Kismet a great big bear hug, Rich lifted her from the stool and swung her around in a circle, eliciting a startled squeak from the woman, before depositing her back onto it. Kismet chuckled at his antics.

‘Well done, Darlin’!’ His elated exclamation caused a slight blush to creep up her cheeks.

‘Thanks.’ She said quietly; suddenly, she seemed a bit shy. Slighty shrinking in on herself on the high stool.

 _Well, that just won’t do.._.

‘Sooooo...’ He began, as soon as the audience had calmed down a bit, trailing off suggestively.

Robbo didn’t disappoint. With the way Rich and he were matched with their wit and their self-deprecating humor, and the habit of nailing their improvs time and time again, the man couldn’t help but respond immediately. Just as Rich had expected.

‘Sooo...?’ He asked into the mic, raising his eyebrows at Rich. His whole demeanor radiated a challenging assertiveness that Rich hadn’t seen in months; or maybe even years. Not since before Rob’s marriage had deteriorated and ended in divorce. It had been quite the blow for the man’s confidence. Something that hadn’t really improved with time. He’d always been prone to low self-esteem and anxiety, but the last eighteen months had been his own personal hell. And all Rich could do was stand by and watch his friend spiral down. Until today that was. Today had been a turningpoint. A turningpoint going by the name of _Kismet_.

Rich grinned at Rob. And then winked at Kismet, who looked a bit lost on what was going on between the two friends.

‘Does our tech fairy have any other songs in her repertoire? Because I don’t know about _you_...’ He turned to the audience, artfully pulling them into the conversation, ‘but I’d like to hear some more. What do you say, gals and guys?’ He saw how Kismet’s eyes became even bigger than they were. Looked like he’d maybe overstepped a bit. He hoped that it all would pan out as he‘d ‘planned’.

The whole room burst out into enthusiastic shouts and yells. Apparently the audience wanted to hear more... With a triumphant grin, Rich gestured widely with his arms as he turned back to where a surprised looking Kismet was still sitting next to a flabbergasted Rob.

‘Looks like you’ll have to do another song, Darlin’. These good people have spoken, and they would _love_ to hear you for a bit longer... If that’s okay?’ Walking up to them, he smoothly bumped Rob out of the way, eliciting a few laughs from the crowd, and gently put an arm around her shoulders, taking care to not upset her precarious balance.

 _Yes, I see that pissed off look, brother. Better not make it too obvious, because the audience is still watching..._ Suppressing an amused snicker, he winked at a frowning Rob, who didn’t look too happy that Rich had taken over his place next to Kismet.

‘So, whaddaya say?’ The woman next to him looked at the mic he held in front of her face. Her expression one of a deer in headlights.

‘Oh... Um... Alright?’ The questionmark in her hesitant voice was so audible, that a few audience members laughed, while others cheered in support.

‘Do you have any other songs you know well?’

Kismet licked her lips nervously, and he could see how the cogs in her brain turned at breakneck speed to provide her with an answer. The woman really was not used to standing in the spotlight.

‘Well... I do have one song I know by heart. But it’s an oldy. And not that popular anymore...’ Shyly, she shot a look into Rob’s direction. ‘I don’t know if you guys ever learned to play it. I know you don’t really do cover songs, outside of the conventions.’

Rob stepped closer, arms crossed across his chest, and spoke into the mic in the stand in front of them as he looked at Kismet.

‘Shoot.’ Was all he said, confidently raising an eyebrow at the woman and flashing her a quick, flirty smile. A few people in the crowd reacted to his response with elated whoops.

 _Oooh, Robbo, you smooth mofo! Where did that come from?_ It had been so long since Rich had seen that expression on his friend’s face, that he was momentarily struck by speechlessness. And that was something that very, _very_ rarely happened to him.

Kismet leaned forward to speak into the mic that was attached to the stand, because, in his surprise at his friend’s behaviour, Rich had lowered his.

‘Um... Well... Can you play ‘What’s up’, by 4 Non Blondes?’

The crowd started to cheer at hearing her request.

Rob voiced Rich’ own surprise.

‘Wow, that’s a _very_ ambitious song.’ He sounded simultaneously impressed and worried. For her, Rich assumed. Because it was a song that could go very wrong for a singer, if not executed right.

‘Well, if you can’t play it... I’ll understand...’ Kismet seemed to temporarily forget about her shyness and she raised a challenging eyebrow at Rob, who blanched.

 _Ooooh... Cheeky gal!_ This night just kept getting better and better. Rich could see how Rob swallowed laboriously before an almost unholy light ignited in the man’s eyes. _Wow..._ Looking back and forth between the two people in front of him, Rich stayed quiet; too entranced by their exchange to think up any funny retorts to ease the sudden tension that hung in the air.

Behind him, to prove that Kismet was wrong in her assumption, Billy, the guitarist of the band, started to play the first few chords of the song.

‘Oh, no, we can _play_ it... The real question here is, can you _sing_ it?’ Rob threw the gauntlet; a rogueish smile appearing on his face in reaction to Kismet’s mock offended expression at his jibe.

_Holy crap! Brother! You’re on a roll!_

The tiny woman, apparently riding the same giddy-from-holy-shit-we’re-flirting high as Rob, and sassy as she was, gave tit for tat.

‘Bring it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, Feed(back) the muse. Omnomnomnom. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> Cheers!


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